Priceless
by Virgo Writer
Summary: No matter what it always came back to him – to the one person who had seen her at her best and her worst and found beauty in both. Who could put a value on that? Payson/Sasha
1. It's Not About the Money

**PRICELESS ****_adj._**

**_of inestimable worth  
>so precious its value cannot be determined<em>**

Disclaimer: I do not own **Make It or Break It**.

A/N: It started off as a drabble inspired by **What Lies Beneath, **but quickly grew beyond that scope and is now an uncontrollable fic monster demanding to be fed. I'm not entirely sure where it's going, but I do have a summary, so at least that's something, right?

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><p>Summary: No matter what it always came back to him – to the one person who had seen her at her best and her worst and found beauty in both. Who could put a value on that? PaysonSasha

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><p><strong>I. It's Not About the Money<strong>

When Kaylie and Max gave her the task of convincing her parents, she knew she was going to need more than a little help. Her parents had been dead set against her taking sponsorship money for so long – they didn't want to turn into one of those families that used their child as a money making machine like Kelly Parker's she-devil of a mother. They were still convinced that she could be happy doing college gymnastics after the Olympics and that she could live with being the big fish in a small pond. They didn't seem to realize that it was only nice being the best when everyone else around you was at the same level.

She needed to enlist the help of someone who understood that and knew what it was like. She almost considered asking Austin to give her a hand, but Austin was _really_bad with parents. Kaylie's parents still looked like they wanted to kill him half of the time, and her own parents seemed to stiffen a little any time he came up in conversation.

There was only one person up for the job and the choice made sense. Her parents trusted his judgment – or at least her mother did – and he had more experience in this area than anyone else she knew. Heck, he'd been _involved_with his own representation – wasn't that qualification enough in it's own right?

She waited for her mother to leave for the day, thus leaving Sasha and Summer alone in the office. She made a silent prayer that she wasn't about to walk in on anything . . . well, anything.

_'Not that you'd care,'_ she reminded herself. _'It was just a crush and you don't have feelings for him anymore. Which is why you've totally been avoiding him since he got back unless it was completely necessary.'_

She guessed she wasn't quite as 'over it' as she led everyone to believe.

"Um . . . Sasha, can I talk to you for a second?" she asked, standing awkwardly by the door outside of his office.

Sasha nodded and Summer immediately got up from her seat, sensing that this was a private conversation. There had been a lot of tenseness between herself and Summer since Sasha's return, and not all of it was coming from her end. Sometimes Summer looked at her as though she was the other woman, which Payson didn't think was entirely fair given that Summer had shacked up with Steve Tanner even before Sasha had left the country. Payson had stayed loyal to Sasha for a good few weeks after his departure, and even then it was only because everyone around her was telling her she had no choice but to move on.

_'You did not just try to measure yourself up against Summer,'_ she admonished in her head. _'You don't get to pretend that you'd somehow make a better partner for Sasha just because you didn't forget him as soon as he left your sight. Summer is ten years older than you. Age appropriateness trumps loyalty, shared values, and common interests every time.'_

"Payson, are you okay?" Sasha's voice interrupted her thoughts, reminding her that she'd come here for a very specific purpose that had nothing to do with examining her uncomfortable association with Summer Van Horne.

She nodded, squaring her shoulders and hardening her jaw and looking about as stubborn as he'd ever seen her. It was what she did to get herself ready to argue her case, and knowing Sasha, it was a necessary preparatory step.

"I need you to convince my parents to let me take sponsorship money from healthy bar," she said in a stern, no nonsense manner, settling her hands staunchly on her hips in an argument ready stance.

"I thought they were offering that to Kaylie," he frowned, looking adorably confused. Payson couldn't help but feel a little offended by his mild surprise, even if he was completely justified in his confusion.

"Well now they're offering it to me," she told him defensively. She lifted her chin and eyed stonily before adding in a small voice, "Just as soon as we convince them."

"I see," Sasha nodded. "You should try not to get your hopes up too much," he advised cautiously.

"What?" Payson shot back, justifiably offended this time. "You don't think they will?

"Max and Austin think they'll offer it to me," she added, purposely trying to rile him up by mentioning Max. Not that Sasha even knew there was anything going on there. Not that there even was anything going on there. Sigh. This is why gymnastics and boys don't mix.

Sasha snorted derisively. "Max and Austin are idiots," he muttered. "And Austin should know better."

He stepped out from his desk and rested lightly against the wooden frame with his arms crossed over his chest and his expression just as stubborn and unrelenting as Payson's. "I'm sure they will offer it to you, Payson," he told her. "But I also know what they offered Kaylie and you'll be lucky if it's half as much."

"That's still a quarter of a million dollars, Sasha," she argued, unfazed by his caution.

He sighed in frustration, running a hand through his sandy hair. He vaguely remembered Summer saying something about them being as stubborn as each other, but he knew now that she was wrong. Payson definitely had him beat in that respect and he was racking his brain for something that would make her see sense in all of this.

"It's a quarter of a million dollars contingent almost entirely on Worlds," he told her straightforwardly. The frustration in his voice made it sound mean, but he couldn't tread lightly – not with so much on the line. "You're only worth that much if you medal."

That one phrase – no matter how cruel it sounded – seemed to get through to her. He saw some of the fight leave her and it killed him a little inside. "How much if I don't?" she asked cautiously.

He shrugged – a gesture of uncertainty rather than indifference. "A tenth of what they'll offer if you medal. Maybe even less."

"But they were willing to give Kaylie half of what she would get if she won and she's only competing in one event," she shot back. "I'm competing all around at Worlds. I have six chances to medal."

It was bad enough to be told that her value after medalling would be so much less than Kaylie's, but now she wasn't even worth the gamble. She was a long shot – ten to one – while Kaylie was a sure thing.

"Kaylie's already the National Champion," Sasha reminded her reluctantly. He regretted the words as soon as he said them as she grimaced painfully.

"You shouldn't compare yourself to Kaylie, Payson," he told her gently, moving across the room to place a comforting hand on her shoulder. "She has a lot of advantages that you don't."

"Like what?" she bit out, feeling guilty for snapping at him.

"Experience for one thing," he began. "You're still a relative newcomer. They don't know how people will respond.

"Her ethnicity for another," he said frankly. "There are a lot of pretty blonde girls in the market already, Payson," he explained when she looked confused. "Kaylie's look makes her stand out and that makes her more marketable."

"But what about my story?" she protested. "Kaylie reckoned my story was enough and I didn't need to be the National Champion."

Sasha shrugged again. "It's only a good story if it has a good ending," he said helplessly. "If you medal at Worlds."

"So that's it?" she asked sadly, her shoulders dropping in defeat. "You don't believe in me."

"Of course I believe in you, Payson," he assured her, the hand on her shoulder sliding down to her hand and squeezing gently. "I wouldn't have brought you to World team trials or have you competing in six events if I didn't think you had a chance of medalling in all of them.

"You are the most talented gymnast I've ever me, Payson, and I fully expect you to take gold, if not at this Worlds, then the next," he stated firmly.

"Then why are you trying to talk me out of this," she asked him in frustration, tearing her hand from his grasp. "My family needs this money, Sasha."

He smiled ruefully. "I just want you to know the risks, Payson," he told her. "If something happens at Worlds and you don't medal for any reason, then where will you be?"

"And if I get injured again, then where will I be?" she argued back. "It's the same risk either way."

"Maybe," he conceded. "But if you medal at Worlds there'll be a lot more than a quarter of a million dollars on the line."

Payson shook her head. "But you don't know that," she protested. "You don't know if anyone's even going to be interested in me after Worlds. You can't guarantee any of that."

"I do," he said. "I talked to MJ Martin. She's got several interested parties just waiting to see how you do at Worlds. Much bigger parties than healthy bar and the 'grrrl' bar."

She gaped, his confession shocking her into silence and her eyes steadily trained on his.

"If you wait until after Worlds I will talk to your parents then and I will do everything in my power to convince them to take what's on offer," he said in a low, intense tone. It was a tone she'd come to think of as Sasha's 'trust me, I'm awesome' voice – the tone he used when he wanted to convince her of something she was unwilling to believe whether it be her own beauty or some skill she felt she was miles away from mastering. But she couldn't believe him this time, no matter how much wanted to or how sure he sounded in his own conviction.

"My family needs this now, Sasha," she told him, barely choking back a sob. "My parents have put so much into my gymnastic and now they can't even come to Worlds because of me." That admittance was what finally broke her, and she suddenly found herself crying on Sasha's shoulder as he wrapped his strong arms around her and whispered foreign, indecipherable words in a low, lulling tone.

"Payson, I know how much this means to you," he told her firmly once her tears had died down, gently stroking her hair, "but I won't convince your parents to take this deal."

"Why not?" she asked desperately, lifting her head to face him.

He touched her cheek, gently wiping away the tears that had fallen from her eyes and hardly able to stand the fact that he had caused her to cry. "Because I don't want you to have to turn down a better offer because of your commitments to healthy bar.

"I know you're better than this," he said with unfailing faith, holding her gaze with his own.

His hand on her cheek stopped moving, cupping her cheek lightly, and suddenly the mood had changed. There was a look in his eyes – the same look she had seen when she stupidly kissed him two months ago – and her heart raced in anticipation, as though it knew something about that look that she didn't.

She closed her eyes, and took a shakey breath, feeling his body shift towards her. Her reaction was on instinct – rising to her feet and lifting her head towards his.

_'No! We're not doing this again!'_she cried in her head, breaking herself out of this trance.

Her eyes snapped open and she jumped back from his warm, towering figure. "I-I should go," she stuttered nervously, shaking her head and trying to rid herself of those thoughts that had plagued for months on end.

He nodded, unable to think of any words that would explain away his actions or make the fact that he almost kissed her _again _okay this time. Instead he just let her go, too busy with his own self-flagellation to protest her hasty exit.

Just one thought circled indefatigably in his mind.

_No. Not again._


	2. Love the One You're With

**PRICELESS ****_adj. _**

**_of inestimable worth  
>so precious its value cannot be determined <em>**

Disclaimer: I do not own **Make It or Break It**.

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><p>Summary: No matter what it always came back to him – to the one person who had seen her at her best and her worst and found beauty in both. Who could put a value on that? PaysonSasha

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><p><strong>II. Love the One You're With<strong>

Somehow she had managed to convince her parents all on her own. Sasha was right about the deal – it was all contingent on her performance at Worlds – but she wouldn't let that put her off and she knew she was capable of keeping up her end of the bargain.

She glanced around the party for someone to tell the news to and unconsciously her eyes searched for broad shoulders, an athletic frame, and a head of sandy blonde hair. She frowned when she spotted him standing near Summer with a grim expression on his face. She wished she'd been surprised to see them together.

"Hey, are you okay?" Max asked, jarring her from her thoughts.

"Oh, yeah," she said waving it off vaguely. "Actually do you mind if we go into one of the other rooms?" she asked, deciding that Max would do in lieu of Kaylie or even Lauren or the person she really wanted to tell. "There's something I want to tell you."

He looked concerned, but nodded and followed her into an empty room with a long mirror that seemed not to have any real purpose. It wasn't hard to keep her expression grim for a few moments before she finally spilled the beans.

"My parents said yes!"

In the next moment she was babbling excitedly about everything that had happened and how everything was going to be better because of this, and she talked to drown out Sasha's voice in her head telling her she was so much better than this.

"What you did and what you said. You were _amazing._

_"I love you."_

She hadn't meant to say that. She'd only meant to thank Max for helping her, but when she thought about everything he said the words just floated out of her on their own accord.

But it wasn't Max's words that were flowing through her head, and it wasn't Max's grey-blue eyes that she was seeing in front of her. Max had told the advertisers that she was talented and beautiful and oh-so-amazing, but he wasn't the one who saw all that when nobody else was looking.

"Oh wow," Max responded vaguely, which really wasn't the words you were looking for after a confession of love. And she talked, this time because she needed some way to take the words back and make this less awkward and just . . . ugh.

But that only made things more uncomfortable, especially when Max had nothing to say and she'd just gone and told him everything she'd meant to say to someone else. She'd always thought that love was something that would come after gymnastics – that the two were logically inconsistent and that it would only take away from her love of the sport – but he had made her better. She was a better gymnast because she loved him.

It only made sense. He was the reason she'd fallen in love with gymnastics nearly ten years earlier.

"I am so sorry," she uttered awkwardly, finally managing to end the onslaught of verbal diarrhoea. "I get it," she assured him, trying to make this less awkward somehow. "I said we were just going to be friends so I'll just . . . please forget this ever happened," she asked, feeling like a complete idiot. "We should get back to the party."

She left before Max could say anything more and cursed herself for crying over something so idiotic. She didn't even really feel that way about Max, and yet somehow the rejection still stung. Perhaps because she knew deep down that this is exactly how it would go if she ever tried to 'confess' to the intended recipient, only she imagined then that the pain would be much worse than what she was feeling over the sham version.

"Payson," Sasha's voice cut into her pain addled thoughts, his tall and handsome figure appearing in her peripheral vision as she tried to escape this whole fiasco. "Payson, come here," he said, wrapping his arm around her and gently leading her to somewhere where she could cry in private and not have to face Kaylie's looks of condolence or Lauren's looks of smug condescension.

For a few very long moments they sat together at the end of a long corridor where the other guests were unlikely to venture, with their backs against a wall and their knees bent in front of them. Her head was rested against his shoulder and his right hand covered her left, which lay on her knee.

"Do you want to tell me what's wrong?" he asked gently, his voice completely unassuming. There was no pressure and she knew if she said no that he would drop the subject and just let her be, no matter how curious or concerned he might be about what happened.

"It's embarrassing," she replied with a pained whine.

"Is it about healthy bar?" he asked her as he smoothed his hand over hers in gentle, relaxing circles. "I know 'grrrl' is a stupid product name, but you knew that before you signed up for it," he teased lightly.

She rolled her eyes and nudged her shoulder against his admonishingly. It made her smile for a little while despite of everything else, but the sombre mood soon returned.

"I told I guy I loved him and he doesn't feel that way," she admitted sombrely.

"Oh, Payson," he began sympathetically, "you – "

"That's not the embarrassing part," she cut in. "The embarrassing part is that I don't even feel that way about him and I don't even know why I said it.

"I just wanted to thank him for what he said at the healthy bar meeting and I was so happy about my parents being able to come to Worlds," she said, speaking at an impossible pace. "And then all this other stuff started spewing from my mouth and it was all nonsense. And then I told him that I loved him, and I know I didn't mean it, but I still feel like crap.

"Being rejected sucks," she said petulantly, stealing her hand from under his so she could cross her arms forcibly, tucking her hands into her armpits. His hand stayed on her knee and the heat from his palm sent warm tingles through her body.

"Yeah, it does," he agreed ruefully.

"Oh right," she said, grimacing on his behalf. "Tanner-Van Horne nuptials. That must smart."

He let out a small puff of air that almost sounded like a laugh. "Not as much as you'd think," he said coolly. "I've come to the conclusion that Summer Van Horne and Steve Tanner were made for each other."

"Don't forget Lauren," Payson pointed out. "She's a part of the deal too.

"Ugh, I can't believe a lost to Lauren," she muttered in frustration. "What is it with the Tanners?" she asked him rhetorically. "I'm starting to think all that god-fearing crap might actually have some value."

Sasha laughed heartily, unable to stop himself from laughing at her mock thoughtful expression and the way she described it all as 'god-fearing crap'. He wondered if his own cynicism had worn off on her a little. She was a woman after his own heart in every way that could be taken.

"I know this is going to sound really petty, but that's actually the part that hurts the most," she admitted to him, ducking her head shamefully. "The fact that I lost to Lauren. I can't believe I'm being that shallow. Just treating a guy like some prize to be won.

"He wasn't even that great a prize," she carried on, rambling now and seeming to forget that Sasha was there to some extent. It all just spilled forth like a stream of consciousness as she tried to avoid the thing that was really on her mind. "When I first met him I thought he was kind of skeevy, but it was nice to think that a guy actually liked me. Guys always seem to like Emily, and Kaylie, and Lauren. So it was a nice change and I was kind of flattered.

"But now that I think about it, he's a jerk and a totally bad friend," she said moodily, her tone shifting from slightly repentant to down right annoyed. "I mean, I told him I only wanted us to be friends and he continued to hit on me and told me about him and Lauren just to make me jealous.

"I mean – Cater Anderson aside – who does that?" she asked, turning her head to address the rhetorical question to him.

"He sounds like a complete wanker," Sasha muttered, flexing his hand threateningly. "Do you want me to beat him up?" he offered completely seriously without even the tiniest trace of humour.

Payson laughed genuinely, patting his hand to silently assure him that it wouldn't be necessary. Her mood had lightened and she was glad to be sitting there beside him, even if the circumstances that got them there weren't the best.

She sighed dramatically, laying her head back against his shoulder. "Why do all the boys I like turn out to be jerks?" she asked sarcastically.

Sasha scoffed amusedly and she could feel the quick expulsion of breath reverberate through his body. "Should I be offended by that comment?" he asked teasingly with an incredulous expression.

She frowned, needing a moment to understand what it was he was implying. Since Sasha's return, the whole 'crush' issue had been completely taboo and not to be mentioned, so it took her by surprise to hear him joking and teasing her on the subject with such ease.

_'If he can do it, so can I,_' she thought, psyching herself up in order to give the witty retort: "I said boys, didn't I?"

Her head lifted from his shoulder and she grinned at him innocently, as though the comment was completely without scandal. He flushed a little, but quickly found his footing, not one to be knocked off his game for too long.

"So who else has made this exclusive list?" he asked, keeping his tone light to disguise his interest.

With a laugh, she shifted around to face him, leaning her shoulder against the wall and curling her legs underneath her. Sasha reciprocated the gesture, dropping one of his legs flat on the ground and angling his body more towards her.

She tapped her chin and pursed her lips in a gesture of mock thought. "Well first there was this boy in kindergarten that only liked me for my cookies. Then you. Then Henry Jamieson who was my boyfriend for a whole twenty-four hours in fourth grade until he dumped me because I was better than him at sports," she explained blandly.

"You," she slipped in, hoping that he might not notice the repetition.

"Then Nicky Russo whose best pickup line was 'I'm the best gymnast at the Rock – you're the best gymnast at The Rock', so I shouldn't have been all that surprised when he decided he was still interested in the best gymnast at The Rock," she said snidely, rolling her eyes.

"Then there was Ike . . . um . . . Izen . . . no," she said, losing her chain of thought as she tried to remember his last name. "It doesn't matter," she decided eventually. "He tried to make me do drugs with him and thought that showing up at a dance made up for that.

"You," she continued. "And Max," she said, knowing she probably should have protected his identity and simply called him 'the wanker' like Sasha had earlier, but didn't because she kind of liked the thought of Sasha beating the living shit out of him.

"Briefly," she added to play it down.

"You have had a far more interesting life than even I realized," Sasha noted with an amused and slightly impressed expression.

"Yeah," she agreed sarcastically, rolling her eyes again. "And all the time it just keeps coming back to the same person," she muttered wistfully, noting the obvious pattern in her list of crushes.

"To me," Sasha realized at the same moment.

She nodded sadly. "I'm sorry," she apologized helplessly, sending him a wane smile.

"You don't have to apologize," Sasha assured her. "I didn't expect those feelings to just change over night or for you to suddenly see me as just your coach."

She shook her head and smiled ruefully. An old phrase her father used a lot came to mind –_ in for a penny, in for a pound_ – as she revealed her most secret thoughts.

"I'm never going to think of you as just my coach," she admitted sadly. She held her breath as she met his gaze, trying to brace herself for the impact of his reaction. She didn't really think that there was anything that she could do to make the rejection easier to take, but at least it wouldn't come as a surprise.

He didn't say anything for awhile, frowning to himself and looking as though he was trying to process the whole thing in his head. When he finally did speak, it wasn't what she was expecting to hear from him.

"Can we pretend for a moment that I'm not your coach?" he asked her in a strange tone she didn't understand.

"Why?" she asked him.

"Just humour me for a moment."

She shrugged indifferently, which wasn't exactly what Sasha was looking for. Eventually she nodded her head, flicking her hand as the final 'okay'.

And suddenly that look was back in his eyes and her heart was hammering in her chest like a samba drum. It was intense and passionate and it was like fire and ice all at the same time. It scared her and at the same time it thrilled her. It was a look that haunted her dreams and in her less rational moments, she liked to think that that was the way a man was supposed to look at the woman he loved.

She was shaken from these thoughts, shuddering as she felt a hand against her cheek, slowly brushing a golden wave of hair back behind her ear.

"_Iti dau inima mea,"_ he whispered lowly, saying in Romanian what he wouldn't dare to say in English, even when playing pretend.

He stroked his hand against her cheek, following the gentle curve down to her jaw and guiding her face towards him. She closed her eyes on instinct and let him lead her into a soft, gentle kiss. His lips were feather light against her own, barely brushing against her lips for more than a moment, but she could feel it all the way to her toes. In that one, too light, too quick kiss she could feel all of that same intensity and passion – that heat and that cool – that she had seen in his eyes earlier and that was underlying every moment they spent together.

"You are more than you know," he breathed quietly as they pulled apart, his intense blue-grey eyes staring meaningfully into her own.

And then he pulled away completely, his hand leaving her chin as he returned to his previous position. He sat stiffly up against the wall behind him, his posture straight and his knees bending in front of him as he stared stoically straight ahead. It was like nothing had changed, and she would have chalked it all up to fantasy if not for his lowly muttered thank you, and the light blush streaked across his cheeks.

Her mind was swarming with questions, but she couldn't think of any that she wanted to voice aloud except for a rather naïve and obviously inappropriate '_can we try that again'_. Luckily – or unfortunately, she wasn't sure which – their brief interlude was brought to end by the obnoxious trill of the cellphone in Sasha's suit pocket.

He gave a loud sigh that sounded as ambivalent as her own feelings towards the phonecall, slipping the cellphone free and answering the call with a curious "Hello?"

He was silent for a few moments, his face emotionless, as whoever was the other line spoke in a sharp, frantic tone. "I'm on my way," he said final, ending the call without anything more.

"Is something wrong?" she asked, not liking his grim expression.

Sasha nodded slowly, his jaw tense and his brow furrowed with concern. "Lauren's been in an accident."

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><p><strong>Translation: <strong>  
><em>Iti dau inima mea<em>: I give you my heart


	3. When It All Falls Apart

**PRICELESS ****_adj. _**

**_of inestimable worth  
>so precious its value cannot be determined <em>**

Disclaimer: I do not own **Make It or Break It**.

* * *

><p>Summary: No matter what it always came back to him – to the one person who had seen her at her best and her worst and found beauty in both. Who could put a value on that? PaysonSasha

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><p><strong>III. When It All Falls Apart<strong>

"So do you want to tell me what really happened out there?" Sasha asked gently, separating Payson from the rest of the team.

He found them a small, secluded corner where they could speak privately and he could check on her mental state. He figured Payson would say what needed to be said to get her teammates through it – she would always be the captain they needed her to be even if the National committee insisted on putting Kaylie Cruz front and centre all for the sake of publicity – but he doubted anyone had said what she needed to hear to get through this.

"I freaked out about the Healthy Bar deal," she admitted to him shamefacedly, trying to keep her cool despite the way her insides still clenched with anxiety and fear. Somehow it had seemed less embarrassing to make it about Max rather than her self when she was talking to Kaylie, Lauren, and Kelly Parker. She told them she'd let herself become some flouncing airhead over a boy (one she didn't love or even like all that much now that she had time to think about it), rather than admit that she was scared.

The fear of failure had felt heavy in her limbs, stilting her movements and weighing her down in jumps and turns that were supposed to look effortless and weightless. She hadn't felt like a beautiful flower out on the floor, instead she'd felt scared and alone and like the whole world was watching her and waiting for her to fail. It wasn't just Healthy Bar that she had to prove herself to out there – everyone was waiting to see whether she was the gymnast she used to be, and this moment was about to make or break her career.

She'd meant it when she told Lauren that boys didn't matter. It was about the team, and she didn't care about Max or anything else. She just wanted to get through this and make everything okay for her family and make it so that everything they'd sacrificed wouldn't be in vain.

She didn't even realize she was crying until Sasha had pulled her into his arms, nestling her against his chest as he wound his arms around her. "Oh, Pay," he said, his tone heartbreakingly gentle. "Payson . . ."

"Why didn't you talk me out of it?" she asked, her fists slamming into his chest in frustration. She felt like an idiot – crying in his arms for the third time in less than a week. It was no wonder Sasha couldn't see her as a woman when she spent so much of her time around him acting like a child. "You knew what was going to happen," she accused as she wrenched herself away. "Why didn't you talk me out of it?"

He held her by her shoulders, his fingers pressing into her skin insistently in an effort to calm her and make her listen. He gave her an ironic smile and shook his head. "Have you ever tried to talk _you_ out of anything, Payson?" he said, slightly teasing. "It's like slamming your head against a brick wall. Repeatedly.

"I did my best, Pay, but I know you, _inima_," he continued with a softer tone. "Once you get an idea in your head, there's no stopping you until it reaches it's natural conclusion."

She took a breath through her nose and released it slowly through her mouth along with all her frustration. It was unfair of her to take this out on Sasha when he had tried his best to stop her from making this decision.

"I know," she said, with a guilty sigh. "You tried," she conceded, letting him pull her back towards him a little. She let her hands rest on his shoulders, her fingers playing absentmindedly with the collar of his tracksuit.

"I did," he agreed, "even though I knew it wouldn't be any use.

"I hoped you would be okay under the pressure," he added with a rueful smile. "And you were. You were brilliant right up until floor. I don't understand what went wrong there," he said with a note of frustration.

Payson barked out a laugh, the sound coming out harsher than she intended. "So the preeminent European coach isn't as clever as he's led us all to believe," she teased superciliously, in a way that only she could. No one else could have gotten away with talking to him like that, but they'd always communicated on a level so different from the rest of his gymnasts.

The mood was changing, just like it had so many times before, only this time it came upon them slowly. It started off with gentle concern and her taking comfort in the one person who always seemed to understand her, but as it lightened, it moved into gentle teasing with an electric, tense undertone.

"Well if you're so clever, why don't you explain it to me," he suggested in a lazy tone, shifting his arms so that they rested loosely on her waist. It was odd – how different the connotations were between an arm around her shoulders and a hand upon her waist. There was just something more intimate in latter gesture, but it crept upon them both so slowly that neither noticed.

"Don't tell me you've forgotten your own words of wisdom," she replied lightly. She smirked as he lifted an eyebrow, silently indicating for her to continue.

"When I'm on the bars or even beam, I can just block everything else out, but I have feel my floor routine," she explained to him, "and with everything I was feeling, I just lost it."

He nodded thoughtfully, absorbing what she was saying. "What do you need me to do to fix this?" he asked lowly. "If you can just make it through team finals, then I know you'll take gold in the individual competition."

"Are you asking as my coach or . . ." She trailed off as she realized what she was saying and exactly what she meant. Her hands shot up to her mouth, as though that action might somehow take back her words, but it was too late for them to be unsaid.

His hands left her waist, and he took her hands in his own, drawing them away from her mouth. "What do you need me to do to fix this?" he repeated, answering her question with his own.

"Can we just pretend for a second?" she asked him quietly, reluctant to meet his gaze.

He gave her a small, reassuring smile. "What do you want to pretend?" he asked her in reply.

"That it's London and I've just won a gold medal on bars and none of this matters anymore."

He nodded, understanding implicitly what she wanted from him. "Then I'd tell you that you're brilliant and that I'm so proud of you.

"And that it's you, Payson," he said, lowering his head and whispering directly into her ear. "You inspire me."

She nodded gratefully and pressed her cheek into his chest, relaxing as he tightened his hold on her and one of his hands moved brush against her hair.

"I know you can do this, Payson," he said, suddenly shifting back to coach-mode, but still holding her tight. "I've seen you do things only a select few are capable of and withstand pain beyond most people's pain threshold. Getting through tomorrow is nothing compared to that.

"You are a champion, Payson Keeler," he finished firmly, lifting her chin with the crook of his index finger so he could look her in the eye. "And tomorrow everyone will see that."

"You're getting pretty good at those pep talks," she teased him with a weak smile, trying to shift the serious mood that had come over them.

He smiled back, lightly stroking his thumb against his jaw. "I've been saving that one for the right moment," he told her with a grin.

She laughed happily as he moved his hand away, perhaps realizing that their closeness and the affectionate hand on her face might be deemed inappropriate to anyone else watching. She felt better for his words – for everything he'd managed to say to her. He was always good at knowing what she needed to hear and setting her mind at ease.

"Thank you," she said, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

"You ready?" he asked her cautiously.

"Yeah," she told him with a fierce nod. "We just need to get through this press conference and then everything will be fine."

"You're not going to tell me what this is about, are you?" he asked her with a frown.

"Nope," she said with a bright grin. "But I think you're going to be really proud of Kaylie."


	4. Avoidance Strategies

**PRICELESS ****_adj. _**

**_of inestimable worth  
>so precious its value cannot be determined <em>**

Disclaimer: I do not own **Make It or Break It**.

* * *

><p>Summary: No matter what it always came back to him – to the one person who had seen her at her best and her worst and found beauty in both. Who could put a value on that? PaysonSasha

* * *

><p><strong>IV. Avoidance Strategy<strong>

She'd known she would have to deal with it eventually – she had, after all, accidentally confessed her love to the wrong person and that had obvious repercussions. The problem was that there was never a right time to do it and after he'd flown all the way to Rio to see her – which seemed rather stalkerish now that she was feeling disillusioned by Max Spencer – she felt guilty for not feeling the same that he did about her.

Not to mention that she was feeling a little gleeful about having beaten Lauren in this regard. But as she had said to Sasha before they left for Rio, she had no interest in the prize that was now hers to claim.

Stupid boys!

And now weeks had passed and she was pretty sure that Max thought they were dating. They hadn't even talked in a month – she'd been caught up in the rest of the Worlds and winning a silver and two gold medals in the individual competition, and then the endorsements that followed, just as Sasha had promised her – but somehow she got the distinct impression that Max thought they were more than good friends.

Honestly, what kind of weak willed woman did he think she was? He rejected her at the party and then went off with Lauren – did he really expect his saying 'I love you too' made up for that? Even if Payson was the kind of person to forgive and forget, she needed more than a month to get over that fact and adjust to the change of feelings.

She went over what had happened after the Team win, trying to work out whether she'd said anything in particular to lead him on. She hadn't really said anything in return, but she'd still been so giddy after the win – and in an uncharacteristically huggy mood – that her rebuff might not have come off as hard as she would have liked. Or even as a rebuff at all. She was really going to have to be more careful with what she said to Max in the future.

Yes, she may have brought this situation upon herself, but that didn't mean she had to be the one to deal with it, right?

She smiled through the warm greetings she received as she walked into The Rock for the first time since Worlds. It was like she was back before her injury – she was the best once again, and it was a nice feeling, even if it was a shallow one.

Sasha stepped out onto the platform outside of his office to see what all the fuss was about, his narrowed gaze enough to silence them and send them back to work without a word. He glared at the group until he spotted Payson in the middle of the foray. "You're back," he greeted with a warm smile, racing down the stairs to greet her properly. He paused for a moment, his mind taking stock of how others might read the action, but decided to pay no heed to those misgivings and wrapped her in a zealous hug, lifting her briefly off the ground. Screw what Steve Tanner and his lot might think. She was his – gymnast/friend/colleague/paramour? – and he was happy to see her after she'd been away from the gym for so long.

"I wasn't expecting to see you here until Monday," he said as he released her from the hug, still standing relatively close.

"I guess I missed it," she shrugged with a small grin.

"Well then, on behalf of The Rocky Mountain Gymnasium and Training Centre, let me personally congratulate you on your performance, Miss Keeler," he said in an overly pompous tone. "Now why are you really here?" he asked a moment later, his tone changing from humorous pomp to no-nonsense incredulity.

"I have a favour to ask you," she reluctantly confessed, giving him her most pathetically pleading look.

His eyes narrowed a little and he shook his head. "Something tells me I'm not going to like this," he noted as he guided her back up to his office.

"Summer, do you mind giving Payson and I some privacy," he asked rhetorically as he made his way to his desk, gesturing for Payson to sit wherever she felt comfortable. Payson perched herself on the edge of one of the desks as Summer lifted an eyebrow at him as if to say 'do you really think that's appropriate'.

"Shut the door behind you, please," he added firmly, asking for the unnecessary added privacy just to spite her.

"Well that was icy," Payson shuddered after Summer left, making no pretence of her displeasure. "Lauren seemed to think you two were getting back together now that she and Steve Tanner have officially called it quits."

Sasha scoffed, obviously finding something unlikeable in her words. "Did she tell you why?" Sasha asked, his question strangely cautious and his eyes searching hers for some unknown emotion.

"Why you're getting back with Summer?" she asked painfully, hoping that it wasn't true. After all the moments they'd had leading up to Worlds, she'd begun to think that these dizzyingly complicated emotions she felt towards her coach were reciprocated, at least to some degree. There'd been an implied promise in their small discussions of something more in the future. Sasha getting back together with Summer – the strangest couple yet here at The Rock as far as she was concerned – would defeat any such line of thinking.

"Why Summer and Steve Tanner ended their engagement," he explained as he fell down into his office chair. Payson shrugged, indicating that she had no idea – nor an inclination to find out – why Steve and Summer broke up, and so he continued. "Lauren sent the training cam video to the NGO."

"Oh," Payson replied, not really understanding the causative connection, but realizing that it wasn't really all that important. It was just Sasha's way of bringing it into the conversation and letting her know the truth, mostly because he knew that Lauren would never do so on her own accord.

"I kind of figured that out a while ago."

This revelation surprised Sasha – which was a surprise in itself, as few things did. He leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees and tilted her head in curiosity in much the same way that Phoebe did when she was angling for a treat. He said nothing, simply waiting for her to explain how this knowledge had come about.

"Not long after you left Lauren suggested that it might have been Kaylie who did it," Payson told him. "Obviously Kaylie would never do something like that, no matter how desperate she got, so I figured Lauren must have done it herself. No one would suggest something so ridiculous unless they were trying to pin the blame on someone else."

"And you're okay with that?" Sasha asked her, surprised at how maturely Payson was handling this. It was impressive even for Payson, whom he considered one of the most level-headed and well-balanced teenagers he'd ever met.

"I wasn't at first," Payson assured him with a serious expression, "but your letter said that we were stronger together.

"I found a way for her to make up for it," she added with a grin. "Last minute tickets to Bucharest and taxi fare to Snagov don't come cheap, you know."

"No," he agreed.

"And," she began, her tone immediately becoming more serious, "I guess . . . I wasn't the one who deserved to be angry at her. She embarrassed me – that's all – but she destroyed your career, Sasha," she said passionately. "You're the one who was hurt by all this. Not me."

Sasha shook his head, sure that there was some great irony to the words that he was about to speak. "It's funny," he told her, "because I had pretty much the exact same thought."

"I'm not the one that she pretty much forced out of the country," she answered pointedly.

"You're the one who had to stay," he said lowly, his tone heavy with guilt and sadness.

"Sasha," she warned, not wanting him to feel guilty about this. He was back now, so the fact that he'd left didn't even matter. He had only left to protect her, after all, and she loved him, so even that was forgivable.

"That's not what I came in here for," she said, forcing a change in subject.

"A favour," he repeated, looking suspicious once again.

"Yup," she nodded. "I need you to talk to Max," she grimaced.

"About what?" he asked her curiously.

"The no-dating rule," she replied. "Just, you know . . . lay the heavy on him."

A small smirk pulled on his lips, and she knew he was making fun of her. "Lay the heavy on him?" he asked. "Do you mind telling me what that entails, Pay?"

She groaned, pouting like a sour child. "Don't make fun of me," she said petulantly, raising her fisted hands to her hips. This only made his grin wider.

"Alright, Payson," he conceded, standing from his chair and raising his hands in surrender. He made no effort to wipe the grin from his face, his amusement still evident. "Why do you want me to 'play the heavy' to Spencer?"

"He think we're dating," she admitted shamefacedly, her stance shifting from annoyed to awkward. "At least I think he thinks we're dating."

Sasha lifted an eyebrow, reminded once again that Payson's monotonous, boyfriend-free existence outside of The Rock was so much more complicated than anyone would guess. As though completely requited feelings between an athlete and coach weren't interesting enough, there were series of satellite relationships looming around that just added to the drama contained there.

His first thought was to ask why Spencer thought they were dating, and he couldn't help but feel a spark of jealousy there. But he realized this wasn't the most important part of what she was saying to him. "Are you trying to get me to break up with him _for you_, Payson?" he asked incredulously.

"Um . . . maybe a little," she said quietly, biting her lip.

He continued to stare at her incredulously, unable to fathom why his brave and headstrong gymnast was shying a way from a relatively innocuous situation. Payson had braved far worse than the minor embarrassment of a breakup – this was the same girl who walked into a Hollywood party in a back brace. Dumping Max Spencer shouldn't even be a blip on her radar.

"Dumping someone sucks," she said, finally breaking under his stare. "It's as bad as being dumped only no one ever talks about it because when you're the dumper you've brought it upon yourself.

"Not that I'd know," she added, remembering that she didn't actually have any proper experience in this department – aside from Henry Jamieson. And Nicky Russo to some degree.

"No, you're right, Pay," he chuckled, wrapping an arm loosely around her shoulder – a friendly gesture rather than a romantic one. "Breaking up with someone sucks.

"But I'm not doing it for you," he added, dispersing her briefly hopeful expression. "This is one of those things you need to do yourself."

"Please," she pleaded, looking as pitiful as she had earlier. "You'll be my best friend forever," she added childishly.

"Well then how could I resist," he drolled back sarcastically, rolling his eyes at her. It was strange how two otherwise very stoic people could become quite silly in one another's presence. He'd begun to notice this strange effect in the moments leading up to their first kiss, and it had become even more noticeable since his return.

"You suck," she told him point blank, the silliness of their conversation making her forget that she was talking to her coach.

Sasha seemed to forget a little too. "I suck?" he asked. "Is that really the best you can do?" he teased.

She narrowed her eyes and stepped away from the arm around her shoulders. "You suck _immensely_," she said, stealing Becca's favourite retort. She lifted an eyebrow at him challengingly, waiting for his retort. They held one another's gaze for as long as they could before the laughter bubbled out of them, unable to keep up the ridiculous farce of an argument for much longer.

"Oh great," Payson sighed, the playfulness and good humour leaving her as she spied Max enter the gym from her vantage point up in Sasha's office. "I don't suppose you'll let me stay up here until he leaves?" she suggested hopefully.

"You're only putting off the inevitable, Payson," he warned her, but he looked genuinely sympathetic. "If you stay, then I've got to put you to work."

"I can do that," she said, accepting the compromise. "What will you have me do, boss?" she asked cheerily.

"Do you want to help me go through the level four assessments?" he asked her. He grimaced a little. This was the sort of admin work he hated, mostly because it was the kind that he couldn't delegate to anyone else. He already knew which girls were ready to move up and which ones needed to spend some more time at the same level, but he had to justify his decision objectively, and carefully analysing their assessments was the only way.

"Sure," Payson said, pulling over a chair towards his desk. They both settled down over the pile of papers. "Should we let Summer know we're done?" she asked before they got too focused on the work and forgot all about her.

Sasha shrugged.

"You're only putting off the inevitable," she warned, using his words against him.

He shrugged again, directing her to the papers in front of her, from which they began a semi-intense debate over which was more important when a gymnast attempted an arabesque – the degree of the angle or the length of time she could hold her balance. It was nearly an hour before Summer finally had enough of things and barged in, eying the two of them suspiciously.

A rather spiteful and impulsive part of Sasha was very tempted to do something inappropriate – anything that could be easily misconstrued by the purist, blonde gym manager – but let their innocence speak for itself. There was nothing untoward about the two of them seated by his desk discussing gymnastics elements, even with the door shut.

"Summer, is Max Spencer around?" he asked neutrally. Payson sent him a grateful smile.

"He and Austin left a few minutes ago for lunch," Summer replied, still searching the office for any sign of what was really going on there. "Do you need to speak with him?"

Payson stretched and rose to her feet. "Guess that's my cue to leave," Payson said, neither one of them answering Summer's question.

"Thanks for your help, Payson," he said in a professional tone. "I'm sorry I couldn't do anything to help your situation," he added vaguely.

"It's my mess," she shrugged. "Thanks anyway," she said, sending him one last smile before she left.

He nodded, feeling slightly reluctant to see her go. With her she took all the warmth and playfulness that had filled the office earlier, replaced with pained awkwardness. And now he was forced to face the inevitable: Summer Van Horne.


	5. The Queen of Broken Hearts

**PRICELESS ****_adj. _**

**_of inestimable worth  
>so precious its value cannot be determined <em>**

Disclaimer: I do not own **Make It or Break It**.

* * *

><p>Summary: No matter what it always came back to him – to the one person who had seen her at her best and her worst and found beauty in both. Who could put a value on that? PaysonSasha

* * *

><p><strong>V. The Queen of Broken Hearts<strong>

"What was all that about?" Summer asked once Payson was gone, sitting behind her desk with a thoughtful expression. It seemed she couldn't help herself, even when it was obvious that the conversation wasn't something Payson wanted her to know about.

"Nothing," Sasha said, shaking his head. In the past he might have kidded himself into believing the question arose out of genuine concern, but like Payson, he was no longer under any romantic delusions. It was interest, not concern, and a need to be involved in everything, even if it really wasn't any of her business.

"I have work to do," he said, leaving the office before he went and told her so much.

"Sasha," Summer said, calling him back as he tried to make his escape. "I just want to thank you for what you did for Lauren," she said with forced pleasantness. "For not telling Payson," she added when he looked slightly confused. "I know that Lauren will come to her in her own time."

Sasha scoffed at her optimism. He realized that Lauren's confession at Worlds had not been of her own initiative, so he was doubtful of Lauren's propensity to admit her sins to anyone else. Lauren's past behaviour indicated that her likely course of action would be continuing to carry this secret to the day she died.

"I did tell Payson," he said simply.

Summer gasped dramatically and began a furious speal about how he'd done wrong by the girls and how important their friendship was. He just let her talk as she condemned his decision, her strict moral code somehow blurring whenever it came to Lauren – lying was wrong, but it was okay not to tell the truth.

"This is just like you, Sasha," she finished dramatically. "You have no concern for anyone but yourself. Did you even think about Lauren when you told Payson?"

"To be perfectly honest – no. I didn't," he said coolly. "I thought about Payson and about how one of her best friends – her teammate – nearly destroyed her for the sake of what? So you would marry her father?

"It nearly worked out, didn't it?" he said dryly, nodding towards her conspicuously unadorned left hand.

Summer had the decency to look embarrassed, pulling her hands into her lap and staring at her ringless finger. "Lauren said you'd forgiven her," she said quietly. "I thought . . ."

"You thought what?" he asked disinterestedly.

She looked up suddenly, narrowing her eyes at him as her features tightened into a judgmental scowl. "I thought you'd changed," she admitted. "But I guess I was wrong. You're the same pig-headed, uncompromising man you always were."

He shook his head, refusing to defend himself against her charges. She talked like she knew him, and yet she had no idea. Pig-headed, selfish, and uncompromising – that was all she really knew of him and a part of him could even forgive her for thinking that was where he began and ended.

"I do forgive Lauren," he said, not wanting to play with semantics. "I forgive her for what she did to me. I'm her coach and I understand why she lashed out at me.

"But that doesn't excuse what she did to Payson," he said sternly. "So don't even try," he added before she tried to defend Lauren's actions.

"You're making more of this than what it is," Summer almost whined, unable to help herself. "It was just a little embarrassment."

He almost growled aloud, Summer's trivializing of the situation raising his rancour. Summer had a way of pushing his buttons, mostly because she had no idea when to stop.

"Payson was mortified," he argued back. "She was going through one of the most difficult times in her life – she was still recovering from her injury. The last thing she needed was people whispering about her behind her back.

"You're completely blind," he accused, anger getting the better of him now as he thought about what Lauren had done. "Lauren is not your daughter and you are not her mother. Maybe if you could see that you'd realize all the people that Lauren hurt in this.

"And you should give Payson more credit," he added as he stalked towards the door, only turning back to send her a smug smile. "Because she already knew."

* * *

><p>"Payson, you have a visitor!" Kim called gleefully from the front door. From the tone of her voice alone, Payson could guess exactly who was at the door. Her mother – despite all of her wonderful motherly qualities – had been painfully supportive of her developing a 'romance' with Max. It was yet another reason why she had let things get as complicated as they did – with Max it could be so easy and they could be together without whispers or judgment.<p>

Not like Sasha . . .

She groaned and muttered a comment about facing the inevitable. She had hoped that she would have a bit more time to herself before Max came by, but she supposed news had gotten around that she was back from her media tour. Kaylie had been among the first lot of people she went to see when she got home, and Kaylie had obviously told Austin, who had inevitably mentioned it to Max on the supposition that her apparent boyfriend would already know that detail.

To her own amusement, she briefly wondered what the proper etiquette was with a boy who thought you were dating when you really weren't. What was the proper form of greeting there? And were there any rules on the best way to break it to him? It would probably be best to do it fast, like ripping off a band-aide. A nice, straightforward 'I don't love, I never have, and I never will' would probably do the trick, but it seemed a little insensitive to just blurt it out as soon as she saw him.

"Mom, I'm going to take Phoebe for a walk," she said as she saw Max waiting for her by the front door, acknowledging his presence with a brief nod. Her mother sent her a knowing look, and Payson felt compelled to let her know that what ever she thought was going to happen, really wasn't going to happen.

"Can I come too?" asked Becca, who had become more attached to Phoebe than even Payson. Payson very nearly acquiesced to the request until her mother intervened, reminding Becca she still had homework that needed completing for tomorrow.

She tutted for Phoebe to come to her as she collected the leash from the closet and pulled on a warm jacket to brave the chill outside. She had briefly considered renaming Phoebe, whose name now stood as a lasting testament to her temporary insanity, but she hadn't been able to think of anything more imaginative than 'Flic-Flack' and didn't think that Phoebe particularly looked like a 'Flic-Flack' - that seemed the name for a larger dog, like a retired grey hound with a four year racing career behind it. "Come on, girl," she said as she attached the dog to the leash, and gently tugged her towards the door.

Phoebe was in a strangely reluctant mood, probably sensing Payson's own reluctance here, but eventually gave in when she caught sight of the outside world. As much as she enjoyed the creature comforts of the Keeler home, Phoebe was definitely a dog that enjoyed the wide, open spaces and Payson was sure to give the little ball of fluff the chance to run around at least once a day.

"So . . . um . . . how was . . . um . . . everything?" Max asked inarticulately as they walked down her street at an easy pace, heading towards one of the nearby parks where Phoebe could be let of her leash.

"Good," Payson answered vaguely. It was all feeling very awkward, and they hadn't even been talking for more than a minute, and the only thing she could do in response to the awkward situation was babble and carry on about nothing in particular.

"The agency Sasha recommended have been incredible and they're really understanding about my gymnastics commitments and stuff," she said happily, pleased about how everything had worked out in the end. "They still require a certain amount of press leading up to a competition, but it's nowhere near as bad as I thought it would be.

"I'm going to have a game character based on me, isn't that cool?" she shared. She imagined seeing herself in video game form would be the most surreal moment of her life and it was one of the things she was really looking forward to in all of this.

"How'd the Healthy Bar commercial go?" he asked awkwardly, a little awed by everything she was talking about. He didn't even realize how far her star had risen since Rio and that Healthy Bar was considered a very small fish compared to the likes of Adidas and Levis and the two car companies who were currently vying for her attention.

"It was pretty straightforward," she shrugged. "My agent was kind of annoyed that I'd gone and agreed to it without representation," she said with a sheepish grin. "I guess I should have listened to Sasha at the time," she sighed. She would never say as much to his face – Sasha had a tendency to get annoyingly smug when he was right.

"What exactly did he have to say about it?" Max asked, his voice a little prickly. There was something unsettling for him in knowing that she'd brought it up with their coach – no matter how logical that might seem. He'd been her champion, going up to bat for her with the Healthy Bar people, but somehow it was still Sasha that she turned to in the end. "I can't imagine he knows that much about advertising," he noted with a derisive scoff.

"He did have a professional career before he got into coaching," she reminded him. "And he would have had to manage the press for his athletes when he was coaching in Romania. He'd already talked to MJ Martin from IMG before I went to talk to him about the Healthy Bar thing," she said defensively.

Max sagged a little in defeat and shifted awkwardly, sensing that Sasha Belov was a touchy subject. "Look, I'm sorry," he said quickly. "I just . . . I guess with the way you were talking . . . I was worried about you leaving me behind," he said with a rueful smile.

Payson grimaced. It was now or never, she supposed, now that Max had given her the opening that she needed. She could either tell him now that there was nothing between them, or let him keep deluding himself into believing his own propaganda.

"Max, I . . . I don't think there's anything to leave behind," she told him as gently as she could manage, halting mid-step. "I think we're better as just friends," she added cautiously.

He stopped just ahead of her, turning to face her and study her expression for any clues of what was happening and how she had come to this decision. "But you love me," he said incredulously, his eyes fluctuating between narrowed suspicion and wide-eyed surprise as he tried to understand what she was saying. "I love you, Payson."

She grimaced again. "That's nice," she said uncomfortably, watching to ground in order to avoid his desperate gaze. "I mean, it's nice to hear. But I'm pretty sure you don't mean it.

"I know I didn't," she admitted with a pained smile, doing her best to look apologetic as she turned her face up towards him. "I didn't mean to tell you that I loved you. I'm not really sure why I said it. I think I just got caught in the moment and said something really stupid.

"We haven't known each other that long," she added, in the hopes that that might somehow make what she was saying easier for him to stomach. "How could we possibly fall in love in just two months?" It had taken her nearly a year to fall in love with Sasha, and he was someone who was _particularly_lovable in his own slightly anti-social way.

Max didn't look swayed by her rational rationale, his eyes finally settling into narrowed slits and his lips pulled into a grim line. "So you lied?" he asked her coldly.

Payson groaned and pressed a finger between her brows as she squeezed her eyes tightly closed. Her mother and anyone who knew her well enough would realize that this was an expression of frustration and agitation, but Max had only known her for two months and that wasn't long enough to learn the meaning of even her most frequent gestures.

"That's not what I'm saying," she bit out angrily. "I'm saying it was an accident, and I'm sorry that I said it, but I never meant to and it's not like either of us actually feel that way, so what's the big deal?" She realized she was trivializing things, but Max really wasn't behaving much better. Maybe he genuinely believed that he did love her, but how could he when he didn't really know her?

"You can't really be asking me that," he muttered. "You can't tell someone you love them and then change your mind, Payson.

"This is exactly what Lauren told me would happen," he said exasperatedly, shaking his head.

"What?" she asked, her guard raised by the mention of Lauren Tanner. "What did Lauren tell you?" she asked, hoping that she hadn't underestimated Lauren's degree of insight.

"She said you'd do this," he said simply. "She said the second I got in the way of your gymnastics that you'd be done with me.

"I guess this is me getting in the way," he said with an ironic smile.

Payson rolled her eyes, finding the whole thing ridiculous and annoying. She wasn't even sure why she was arguing with him – did it really matter why she was breaking up with him just as long as it was done – but she felt the need to defend herself. "This isn't about gymnastics," she said, the words almost seeming a curse, "and the fact that you can believe that says you have absolutely no clue about me.

"Is it really so hard to accept that I just don't feel that way about you?" she asked turning this back on him. "I suppose I shouldn't be all that surprised, after all, you are the sort of guy who enjoys stringing two girls along at the same time.

"And I take back what I said about us being friends," she said darkly. "I want nothing to do with you, Max Spencer.

"Now if you'll excuse me," she said, pushing him to one side, "Phoebe and I would like to continue our walk."

She commended herself on the exit, pleased that she'd managed to leave on such a dramatic and poignant note. Only now she had no idea where to go. She didn't want to go back home and have to face her mother fishing for gossip and details of some romantic tryst that never happened. And she really didn't feel up for a run after that brief emotional upheaval.

So instead she headed to the one place she knew she could find comfort.

Back to The Rock.

* * *

><p>Authors Note: Yes, I have a summary now. Still no real idea of where the story is going, but it'll come to me . . . I hope.<p>

Just a quick, slightly related question - does anyone know what breeds Phoebe is supposed to be? I think she looks like she's got some Chihuahua in her, but I'm not sure if that's the predominant breed. Thoughts?


	6. Must Love Dogs

**PRICELESS ****_adj. _**

**_of inestimable worth  
>so precious its value cannot be determined <em>**

Disclaimer: I do not own **Make It or Break It**.

* * *

><p>Summary: No matter what it always came back to him – to the one person who had seen her at her best and her worst and found beauty in both. Who could put a value on that? PaysonSasha

* * *

><p><strong>VI. Must Love Dogs<strong>

After successfully managing to avoid Summer Van Horne for the rest of the working day, Sasha had amassed a very large pile of paperwork in the inbox on his desk all of it urgent and in need of more than just his signature before the following week. Normally this was the sort of thing he would put off until the last minute, but that would likely involve more interactions with Summer and the way he was feeling right now, that would surely lead to him saying something that he might regret. For all her faults, she was good at her job and he would feel bad saddling Kim with all that extra work when it was his fault that they were down a gym manager.

He sighed and made his way up to the empty gym office, resigning himself to a late night alone at The Rock. Even Austin, who was often here well into the evening, was long gone, probably headed off to a date with Kaylie. The last gymnast to leave had been Lauren, strangely enough, who had stayed behind working on her vault and left when Summer did at five-thirty.

The paperwork was even more gruelling than he anticipated. At the top of the pile were progress reports for the NGO, who wanted to know how their elites were fairing and what steps he was taking to secure them gold in 2012. He was on a sort of probation with the NGO, although they would never say as much. They had offered him the position out of guilt and desperation, but that didn't mean that they were happy to have him there or that they weren't looking for any excuse to send him packing on the first plane back to Bucharest.

He was almost tempted to tell them to screw their lousy position and that he didn't care enough to be bothered with the politics and paperwork. Except that he did. He cared far too much – that had always been his problem – and he knew he had to be here to protect the girls from the harsher reality of the sport they loved.

And then there was Payson.

He knew he could never leave her again. His heart couldn't take that sort of pain a second time.

He groaned, cursing the paperwork for its mundaneness. It wasn't nearly enough to keep his mind from wandering and his thoughts drifting in a perfectly logically way to those of Payson. All his thoughts seemed to come to that these days – no matter what he began with they always seemed to find their way back to that one, incredible young woman who had become the very centre of his universe.

"You're a fool," he told himself aloud with a disparaging sigh, giving up for the time being, on trying to focus on anything other than Payson and the complicated emotions that surrounded her. He closed his eyes and let his mind go to where it wanted to go.

He'd told himself when he left that he was missing all of them – that he was missing his gymnasts in the same way that a father misses his children – but he hadn't been thinking of gymnastics as he willed away his lonely hours in a derelict bar in Snagov. He'd only been thinking about her and what he would give for one more smile or hug or even one more of those petulant little mini-tantrums she threw when he asked her to step outside of her comfort zone. Almost the entire six weeks was spent going over her every gesture and feature in his mind for fear that he might forget them in her absence.

Now he was back, there were so many other features that he hadn't thought to catalogue and things he would have missed out on if she hadn't chased after him and called him out on his cowardice. In his more sentimental moments, he liked to think that she had saved his life that day, although he doubted he would ever dare to tell her so.

He'd gone and let himself fall in love with his teenaged gymnast without even seeing the signs of it coming. One day she'd just been his remarkably talented gymnast that he seemed to have a connection with that couldn't be matched by anyone else. The next day he realized what that connection was. She was –

THUD!

He started at the sudden noise, saved from further introspection by the nearby crash. The noise was accompanied by a lighter thud, repetitively tapping against his floor at a steady pace.

"Sorry," Payson said, peaking her head out from behind one of the desks. "I didn't mean to wake you."

She ducked her head back down, obviously fiddling with something. "I was just going to leave that for you," she said, her voice drifting from behind the desk. There was a pot of soup sitting atop the other desk that she was probably referring to. "But then I got caught up in Phoebe's leash and . . . well yeah."

He laughed as he imagined the accident. Payson often amazed him in being equal parts grace and clumsiness. When she was on the beam, it was like her feet were cemented to those four inches and nothing could knock her off no matter how badly she might waiver when she was mastering a new skill. But outside of that – outside of her professional life when she was just walking around or chatting with her friends – he'd seen her fall over her own feet on more than one occasion.

And he supposed that explained the other noise he'd heard – the soft, rhythmic tapping was obviously the mongrel Chihuahua/Terrier mix that had temporarily taken residence in his gym. This was confirmed when the small dog made her way over to him as Payson untangled herself from the leash.

"So this is what happened to you," he said as he lifted the dog up onto his lap, and gently petted her fur. It was amazing what just two months with the Keelers had done for the dog, which no longer looked like it had been rescued from the deluge. She playfully nipped at his fingers, and he admonished her with no real bite in return.

"I didn't think you liked dogs," Payson said as she finally stood up from behind the desk.

"Now when did I ever say that?" he asked with a gentle smile as he gave Phoebe a scratch behind her ears.

Payson shrugged. "I guess I just presumed because . . . you know," she said vaguely, waving her hand in explanation.

"I don't like it when my gymnast tries to hide a dog here right under my nose," he said with some sternness. The warmth returned to his smile a moment later as he continued, "but I do like dogs."

"What kind?" she asked, perching on the empty corner of his desk so that she was close enough to pet Phoebe. She was almost certain he had a favourite – most dog lovers did.

"Spitz breeds," he replied. "One of my father's friends was a dog breeder – he bred Finnish Spitz and Samoyed. I always liked the Finnish Spitz best because I thought they looked like foxes," he finished fondly.

"Is that the kind of dog that you had?" she asked him, genuinely curious and not merely making conversation.

Sasha shook his head. "We had working dogs," he told her, "but I was begrudgingly allowed to name them, even though my father didn't think that working dogs should have names."

Having more than slightly country origins herself, Payson understood exactly what that meant. "You grew up on a farm?" Payson asked, surprised by this revelation.

"Just a small one," he replied, frowning at the expression. "In England – Wales, really – not Romania. We had some sheep and cattle, but that was about it."

Payson shook her head, surprise still evident on her features as he tried to play down the extent of his family's land holdings. "I just can't imagine you as a farmer," she admitted. "So what did you call your dogs, country boy?" she teased, leaning forward eagerly.

He took a moment to recall the details, having to go back nearly twenty-five years in his memory. "My first dog was called 'Winkie'," he told her. "She was an English Shepherd mixed with a few other things."

"Winkie?" she asked, clearly wanting an elaboration on what the name meant.

"From the Wizard of Oz."

She laughed lightly. "That's considered a racial slur now, you know."

"Well it was considered a perfectly good name at the time," he pouted.

"Alright," she said, still laughing at his expression. "Continue."

"The other was a Mioritic," he said, his English accent fading as he said the last word with the almost musical pronunciation of his native tongue. "It's a Romanian breed," as she had guessed from his pronunciation. "A big, white, shaggy mountain dog.

"So I called him 'Yeti'," he said, a little ashamed at his lack of imagination.

"That's a good name," Payson assured him. "He kind of sounds a bit like the abominable snowman.

"You didn't have anymore after that?" she asked, tilting her head at him.

"After that my mother and I moved back to England and after Sydney I didn't really settle anywhere long enough to have a dog."

"I suppose coaching isn't all that conducive to looking after a dog," she conceded. "Especially when I can't even trust you to look after yourself," she added sternly. She reached for the container of soup she'd brought with her and commanded him to eat, taking Phoebe into her own lap.

"What about you?" he asked.

"Not hungry," she shrugged.

He eyed her meaningfully, waiting for her to finally give in and reach the topic she'd been so clearly avoiding since she arrived at his office. He could always tell when she needed to talk about something, but he knew her well enough not to push too hard and wait until she was ready to start talking.

She gently petted Phoebe, trying to work out how to bring up the topic she had in mind. Phoebe squirmed in her arms – responding to the sudden tension – and Payson complied with the silent instruction to be put down.

"I did the deed," she finally said as he ate his soup.

"The deed?" he asked curiously, raising an eyebrow suggestively.

She swatted at him playfully with her foot, admonishingly telling him to get his mind out of the gutter. "I broke up with Max."

He nodded, putting his soup to one side and leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. "How was it?" he asked her gently.

"As awful as I thought it would be," she said with an aggravated sigh. "He didn't take it so well."

"Not surprising," he interjected.

"It's just . . . he said some stuff that kind of worried me a little," she said awkwardly.

Sasha's hand flexed on reflex as he thought about the kind of things most teenage boys tended to say when dumped unexpectedly. Most of it involved name-calling and accusations of being a tease, none of which he could see her as deserving.

"Whatever he said about you, he's wrong," he said firmly. "You are one of the most beautiful people I have ever met, Payson, and if that's how he reacted to you telling him the truth then he didn't deserve you."

She smiled at the compliment, lightly squeezing his fist as a sign of gratitude. "Thank you," she said sweetly. "But that's not what he said so you don't have to beat him up."

"So what was it?" he asked, his concern not abating although the compulsion to teach Max Spencer a thing or two about boxing did simmer down a little.

"He seemed to think that I was dumping him because he was getting in the way of my gymnastics," she said exasperatedly.

"Is that how people really see me?" she asked him, trusting his opinion above all others. "I'm not really like that, am I?"

"No," he said, able to answer with utmost surety. "There are a lot of things that I know you'd put before your gymnastics, and it doesn't make you a bad person because a boyfriend isn't one of them."

"Shouldn't it be?" she asked, more from a philosophical perspective than practical one.

He shrugged. "For the right person?" he suggested thoughtfully. "But the right person would never ask that of you," he said. His heart hammered away in his chest and he had the feeling that he'd just said too much.

"Your parents and Becca, and Kaylie and even Lauren," he continued, trying to bring them back on topic and ease some of his discomfort. "The people that matter won't ask you to put them ahead of your dreams."

She nodded, understanding what he was saying about the people who meant the most to her. "You too," she said quietly. He frowned and she explained herself. "I just meant that you'd never ask me to put you first.

"Sometimes I wish you would," she said lowly, ducking her head towards her chest.

He rose to his feet, encircling one hand around her waist as the other went to her cheek, coaxing to her lift her gaze back to his. "I don't mind coming second," he told her once she met her gaze. "For now, at least."

"For now," she repeated, the promise that it implied making her smile. There was nothing concrete said, but that lingering promise was more than enough for now.

She shifted closer and moistened her lips, knowing exactly what she was doing this time. It had been months since that late night when she had impulsively kissed him, and now they were back full circle, alone together in an empty gym with her intent perfectly clear to the both of them. She raised herself on the balls of her feet, surging forward in the same moment that he dropped his head down towards her, meeting her midway.

Her hand clutched into his shirt as her mouth met his, their lips pressed firmly together. It was more than a mere brush of lips – something more intense than the brief kiss they'd shared before Worlds – as his mouth moved surely against hers, enticing her into a battle of tongues and teeth and lips, and making her entire body tingle with warmth.

She felt almost breathless as they pulled apart, her eyes still closed as she tried to hold onto the feeling.

Phoebe barked sharply, having been ignored for far too long, and sudden noise brought them both back to reality.

"Do you and Phoebe need a ride home?" he asked her carefully.

She shook her head. "I still owe the Phebster a run," she told him lightly, the nickname making him snigger.

"Goodnight, Pay," he said softly, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

"Goodnight, Sasha."

* * *

><p>Authors Note: My version of Sasha's history kind of has him flicking around a lot between the UK and Romania. Just given the time frame, it made more sense to have a farm in Wales rather than one in Romania.<p>

And if you have no idea what a Finnish Spitz is you should look it up because they're the most gorgeous breed.


	7. Where You Don't Belong

**PRICELESS ****_adj. _**

**_of inestimable worth  
>so precious its value cannot be determined <em>**

Disclaimer: I do not own **Make It or Break It**.

* * *

><p>Summary: No matter what it always came back to him – to the one person who had seen her at her best and her worst and found beauty in both. Who could put a value on that? PaysonSasha

* * *

><p><strong>VII. Where You Don't Belong<strong>

"Good morning," Kim said brightly, entering the gym office Monday morning.

"Good morning, Kim," Summer responded in her usual dutiful tone. "How was everything with Payson?"

"It was really good," Kim smiled. "I think it's going to take a little getting used to – my daughter as a celebrity.

"I love the banners, by the way," she added, having seen them as soon as she arrived. They hadn't been there before she left for the week to accompany Payson to LA for her media commitments, and they certainly weren't difficult to miss. She didn't doubt that they'd be fielding a lot of calls for new recruits after how well the girls had done in Rio.

Summer nodded. "Mr Tanner had them done for us," she said with a grimace.

Kim didn't fail to notice her choice of address, or the wedding ring conspicuously absent from her hand. "So it's really over between you two?" she asked gently.

"It is," Summer nodded.

"Is this because of Sasha?" Kim couldn't help but ask, looking out towards the floor where Sasha and Payson were working on her beam routine.

Summer frowned, her brows dipping together and her lips pursing as she considered the question. "It's complicated."

"Did you want to talk about it?" Kim offered kindly.

Summer sighed loudly. "I just don't know, Kim," she said with an exasperated sound. "Sometimes I think . . . Steve and I had _so _much in common, but it never seems to be enough. And then Sasha . . .

"Every now and then I think that there has to be something more to Sasha – that if you just scratch a little deeper . . . but there's nothing deeper," she sighed again. "What you see is what you get."

Kim frowned, not really seeing Summer's point. Sasha Belov was one of her favourite people outside of her own family and what Summer was describing as lack of depth was one of the things that she liked best about Sasha – she never had to second guess him or wonder if there was some ulterior motive. Sasha was never false and she always knew where she stood with him. What you saw was what you got.

"You always knew that about him," Kim shrugged aiming for the neutral middle ground. "Sasha never made himself out to be more than that.

"You've got to decide whether that's something that you want," she advised sagely. "Otherwise, you should let him go before you end up hurting each other."

"I wonder if it's already too late for that," Summer sighed lowly.

Kim sent her a consoling smile and gently squeezed Summer's shoulder in a motherly gesture. "I think after everything with Steve _and_Sasha, it's probably about time you had some time to yourself," Kim suggested. "For as long as I've known you, you've just been rushing from one relationship to the next. This back-and-forth-ing can't be healthy," she warned.

"You're probably right," Summer agreed tiredly, trying to ignore the small tremor of anxiety she felt at the thought of being single. She was nearly thirty-two and still unmarried, and her ex-fiancés daughter the closest thing she had to children. This was not the life she had planned for herself and she was getting increasingly closer to her impossible deadlines.

"I usually am about these things," Kim joked in an effort to make her friend smile. Summer's expression remained pensive, so she tried a different tactic. "I'll try to make myself scarce today," she offered, sensing Summer's need to discuss things with Sasha.

"Just be careful," she warned more seriously. "I don't want to see either of you hurt.  
>Especially Sasha."<p>

* * *

><p>"You're only putting off the inevitable," Payson warned Sasha in a sing-song voice as his gaze flicked briefly towards his own office. He'd been avoiding going anywhere near it all morning (and most of the preceding weekend) but he was quickly running out of excuses and ways to trick people into running errands to the office on his behalf. Even braving the Level 3 parents seem more appeasable than having to deal with Summer who he knew was just dying to rehash yesterdays argument in the deluded belief that Round 2 might just change the outcome.<p>

Sasha made a small half-hearted groan and pretended to ignore her.

"Mom's gonna be mad if you don't at least pop your head in to say 'hi'," she told him more seriously. "You're going to hurt her feelings."

He grimaced. "Not helping, Pay."

Payson just laughed in response. "I wasn't trying to," she giggled brightly.

He narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "You're in a particularly good mood today," he noted. "What's that about?"

She shrugged and stretched her arms up above her head, practicing the basic choreography of her beam routine. "Schadenfreude?" she suggested innocently, knowing he would understand the meaning despite his obstinate ignorance of popular culture. She'd probably bet he knew enough German to know if she was pronouncing it wrong.

"And I'm just glad to be back in the gym," she added. "Is it weird that I actually missed training?"

"Not at all," he assured her. "Beats getting photographed with a group of swimsuit models any day," he grinned.

"Oh I'm sure you know," she agreed drolly, sharing a laugh with her coach before mounting the beam with a tucked salto, which she landed perfectly with her hands raised above her head. She dropped each arm one at a time, and went into a split leap straddling the beam with her head and back arched towards her back foot. Upon landing, the threw herself back into a flic-flac, her hands firmly on the beam as the rest of her body followed down with the momentum.

"I'm sure it's not as bad as you make out," she said as swung her legs back onto the beam, sitting in a cross split. She bowed down towards her front foot, and then gracefully moved back into a standing position.

"Believe me, it will be," he said stonily. His eyes were unflinchingly upon her as she lifted her back leg and leaned into a standing split, her balance perfectly in check and lines full of elegance. "What did your mom say when you told her?" he asked, wondering briefly if he might need to be up there to play interference, but hoping it wouldn't be that bad.

Payson turned her head away for a moment, trying to hide her expression. Raising her arms once again, she took off backwards, her body completing a 360-degree rotation before her hands touched the beam and pushed her onwards to complete the flic-flac full twist to handspring. This was followed by split leap forward, and then a fouette hop with a half turn to an arabesque. She stepped forward, lifting her front leg so it was parallel to the beam and twisting her body as she pushed off to swing her body around 180 degrees, landing on her front leg with her back leg raised up behind her in a beautiful pose.

"I haven't told her yet," she admitted shyly, grimacing as their eyes met. She hadn't needed to see him to know exactly what his expression looked like – an eyebrow raised incredulously and a stern pursing of lips as he crossed his arms across his chest and stared at her meaningfully. "I just wasn't sure how to bring it up."

Her hands flitted around her as she threw in some obligatory dance movements that brought her arms to where she wanted them and moving closer to the end of the beam to give herself more room for her next combination.

"I can talk to her," Sasha offered once she had paused between elements. "It's probably better that I do.

"Watch your hand positions in the support," he reminded with regards to the earlier flic-flac. She nodded, bringing her feet together before she took off in an acrobatic combination; an aerial cartwheel followed a backwards tucked salto, travelling across the length of the beam and landing at the opposite end. There was just enough room for her to bend back into a handstand and out of it, and she finished the backwards walkover with her heels nearly hanging off the edge of the beam.

"Your – "

"Extensions, I know," she finished for him as she critiqued the combination.

"If you know then why do I have to remind you, Payson?" he asked superiorly.

She said nothing in return, only breaking her routine in order to poke her tongue out at him. She performed a full-illusion, her whole body moving in perfect synchronisation to give the desired effect. This transitioned immediately into another dramatic leap. She threw a switch leap, switching her legs as she stretched to ring position with her head arched back and her back leg bent. The landing was almost catlike, falling softly on the beam. She then headed back the way she came, taking a running start into a round-off and then propelling off the end of the beam with a salto stretched with two and a half twists.

She raised her hands towards the imaginary judges and turned to him for the final word.

"You know if I kept working with you down here instead of heading up to the office we could probably upgrade your mount from a tucked salto to a piked," he mused thoughtfully. "Maybe even throw in a half-twist."

She rolled her eyes at his incorrigibleness. It was more than obvious that he was just trying to use her as an excuse to avoid the gym office – all the more so because he'd stated, quite firmly, at the start of practice that she wasn't allowed to do anything new until she had at least a full day of practice under her belt. "Go, Belov," she said sternly, tsking as she pointed towards the gym office. "Unless it's a round-off to a full twisting stretched backwards salto," naming the most difficult mount in the current code of points, "I'm not buying."

He paused, taking a moment to study her carefully, seeming to measure her in his mind and do a multitude of calculations in about half a second. "I'll think about it," he said before reluctantly making his way up towards his office. Summer and Kim were both seated at their desks working as he arrived – Kim looked up to greet him while Summer pointedly ignored him, which suited him perfectly fine.

"It's good to have you back," he said genuinely with a warm smile. "Both of you," he added, glancing briefly towards the floor.

"The feeling is definitely mutual," Kim laughed. "I swear, if I had a dollar for every time Payson uttered the words 'I could be training right now', I'd be worth my weight in gold.

"Speaking of which," she said, standing abruptly - she never was known for her subtlety. "I'm gonna go see how Payson's doing."

She made her way to the door, but Sasha stepped into her path, cutting her off before she got there. "Actually, Kim, there's something I need to talk to you about," he said seriously.

"Me?" Kim asked, surprised by this announcement.

He nodded and gestured for her to take a seat. He could see Summer shifting uncomfortably at her desk, obviously guessing what it was that he needed to say to Kim. He paid her no heed – she could stay for this or she could go and hide until it all blew over for all he cared – and focused his attention on Kim who had seated herself on the couch in the corner.

For proprieties sake, he closed the door. He didn't want any of the gymnasts accidentally walking in as they discussed this, especially if that gymnast was Lauren who probably thought that him 'forgetting' meant that he was agreeing to keep her secret.

"During Worlds I was . . .confessed to by the person behind the video tape," he said almost clinically.

"The video tape?" Kim asked. "As in . . .?"

Sasha nodded. "I've already spoken to Payson," he said clearly. "I thought it best that she heard it from me, and she gave me the go ahead to let you know."

Kim gaped. "Is she okay?" she asked, more concerned for her daughter's reaction to this news than the name of the culprit.

"She is," Sasha promised. "In fact, she already had an idea of who was behind it, she just didn't have anything concrete go on. All I did was confirm those suspicions and she'd already dealt with it in her own mind.

"She's handled it all beautifully," he said warmly. "Honestly, I think she took the news better than I did."

"You know Payson," Kim said with a weak shrug. She sighed with relief, glad to know that Payson was all right and more than a little impressed by that fact.

"Who was it?"

Sasha's eyes flicked towards Summer, giving her the opportunity to say what she wanted to say – to talk it down and try to justify Lauren's actions to Kim just as she had to him – but she remained silent, turning her head back down towards her work as her shoulder hunched forward. The movement did not go unnoticed by Kim, who jumped to the obvious conclusion.

"It wasn't Steve, was it?" she asked. "Is that why you ended things?

"No," she said, reasoning on her own when Summer did nothing but look guilty in response. "Steve may be conniving and underhanded, but he never would have hurt Payson like this just to get Sasha out of the picture.

"Lauren," she guessed, turning her eyes to Sasha who nodded his confirmation. "I surprised we didn't work it out sooner. Who else could it have been?

"And Payson's okay with that?" she asked him, her worry resurfacing now that the person behind her daughter's embarrassment had been named as one of her closest friends.

Sasha nodded. "Like I said, she dealt with it," he said. "She's moved on. I doubt she'll ever really be able to trust Lauren, but she's not going to end their friendship because of it."

Kim sighed. "I don't know how she can do it," she admitted. "If it were me . . . I don't think I could forgive Lauren so easily.

"How about you, Sasha?" she asked carefully. "Payson isn't the only one Lauren hurt with this," she reminded him.

"If Payson's okay, then I'm okay," he shrugged.

"I better get back to the floor," he said awkwardly, indicating that the conversation had come to an end. "I promised Austin I'd take a look at his high bar routine." With that he slipped out of the door, pausing briefly on the platform outside before disappearing towards the annex where the boys' apparatuses were kept.

Summer stepped out from her desk and settled into the couch. "I'm sorry, Kim," she said with a contrite smile, laying her hand against Kim's.

"How long have you known?" Kim asked, her eyes narrowing in confusion.

"Since the pre-Worlds party," Summer admitted guiltily. "I'm just so – "

"You should have told me," Kim said, cutting her off. Her expression was filled with disappointment rather than anger or betrayal. "I can understand that Lauren needed to come to Sasha herself and that you shouldn't be the one speak to Payson, but you should have told me, Summer. I'm her mother and I have a right to know anything that might hurt my daughter."

"It wasn't my place to say," Summer offered weakly.

"No," Kim disagreed. "You should have told me the second you found out. You were just trying to protect Lauren," she accused.

"That's not true," Summer protested. "I'm the one who made her go to Sasha," she said in her defence.

"But not to Payson," Kim pointed out.

"I – I . . . wouldn't you do the same?" Summer tried, hoping to make Kim see that she only did what any rational person would have done. "If the positions were reversed, wouldn't you have tried to protect Payson?"

"Maybe," Kim shrugged indifferently. "I don't think I would.

"I get it, Summer," she said. "I'm sure you thought you had both their best interests at heart. And if you thought like a parent you'd realize that that wasn't your decision to make."

"I really am sorry, Kim," Summer said again, the only thing that she had to offer.

"I forgive you," Kim conceded. "I just . . . you really should have told me, Summer.

"We've got work to do," she said, standing and heading towards her desk. "Those expense reports aren't just going to file themselves, you know," she said with a forced laugh.

"No," Summer agreed, her smile failing as her life slowly fell apart around her.

* * *

><p>Authors Note: Took my sweet time, but there you go. Is it bad that I was surprised that I was up to chapter 7?<p>

Now, for footnotes version of the gymnastics routine.

Payson's Beam routine: 6.0

Salto mount (1.316: C)  
><strong>Cross leap<strong> (2.502: E)  
><strong>Flic-flac side to support<strong> (5.306: C) (+0.1 connection mixed elements)  
>side split to standing<br>Standing split (4.102: A)  
><strong>Backwards flic-flac with 12 twist to hand-spring** (5.403: D)  
>Split leap (2.102: A)<br>Fouette hop to arabesque (2.204: B)  
><strong>Aerial Cartwheel<strong> (5.409: D)  
><strong>Backwards salto<strong> (5.513: C) (+0.2 connection acrobatic)  
>Backwards walkover (4.110: A)<br>**Full illusion** (3.405: D)  
><strong>Switch leap to ring positio<strong>n (2.508: E)  
>Round-off (5.202: B)<br>**Salto backwards stretched with 2 1/2 twists** (6.404: D)


	8. Wasting Time

**PRICELESS ****_adj._**

**_of inestimable worth  
>so precious its value cannot be determined<em>**

Disclaimer: I do not own **Make It or Break It**.

* * *

><p>Summary: No matter what it always came back to him – to the one person who had seen her at her best and her worst and found beauty in both. Who could put a value on that? PaysonSasha

* * *

><p><strong>VIII. Wasting Time<strong>

****

"What was Sasha saying about your dismount?" Lauren asked as soon as their coach was out of earshot.

Payson rolled her eyes. Lauren clearly had some sort of super-spidey-sense when it came to beam routine upgrades. They hadn't even been talking that loudly – or given much of their conversation to the subject – but somehow Lauren had managed to pick up on it from across the room.

"We were only joking," Payson assured her, knowing that Lauren was only freaking out because the upgrade Sasha was 'thinking about' was so much higher than Lauren's own. "It'll be the piked salto most likely. The twist if I'm lucky."

Lauren was instantly relieved. A piked salto would only give her a mount equal to aerial walkover she had been working on since Worlds, and an additional half-twist wouldn't be enough to beat her DOD. A G-skill mount, on the other hand, was enough to get even Lauren worried.

"So . . ." Lauren began vaguely, and Payson grimaced as she tried to work out what scheme Lauren was trying to draw her into. "I've been thinking about Summer and Sasha . . ."

Payson groaned. "Please don't tell me that you're planning to use him to keep Summer around," she begged. "Aside from the fact that Sasha's kind of avoiding her right now," she pointed out, hoping that Lauren had at least noticed that much, "I doubt he'll be staying in Boulder after the Olympics."

"Did he say something?" Lauren asked, surprised by the revelation, although not surprised that Payson would be the one to reveal it. If anyone knew it would be Payson, after all.

"He doesn't like the cold," Payson shrugged. "Your dad found him in _California_, remember? And he only puts up with the NGO politics for the three of us. We're all retiring after London, so what reason does Sasha have to stay?"

"Good point," Lauren agreed thoughtfully. "Anyway," she said, waving off her own contemplativeness, "I already vetoed that option.

"It's totally not gonna work," she declared. "I mean, Summer and Sasha? Sasha willingly lived in a trailer when we all know he's loaded and spends most of his free time fishing. Can you see Summer enjoying any of that?"

_'Thank god,'_ Payson almost cheered aloud, glad to finally have someone agree with her on her analysis of Sasha's brief relationship with Summer Van Horne. There couldn't be two people more at odds than Summer and Sasha and the only thing she could see them having in common was a mutual place of work and an investment in Lauren's future. She was glad to know that this conclusion was not simply her own bias.

"I want her to stay with my dad," Lauren said firmly, deeming all other alternatives inferior to that goal. "And if Summer jumps straight into another relationship, then my dad will have no chance at all," she explained. "She needs to stay single while I show her how totally awesome my dad is and how much she still loves him."

She paused, building up the drama before she revealed Payson's role in that plan. "I need your help making sure she _doesn't_ try to rekindle things with Sasha."

Payson gaped, her mouth opening and closing wordlessly as she tried to put her shock and horror into words. "H-how am _I_ suppose to help?" she managed eventually, wondering how Lauren had managed to inadvertently stumble so close to the truth.

Lauren shrugged and smiled innocently. "You did a pretty good job at breaking them up the first time."

"That's not what happened!" Payson protested. "I didn't do anything!

"Technically they didn't even break up," she added, not really sure how that was helping her argument. "Sasha just got the hint when Summer showed up at World Team trials with your dad."

"Are you calling my future step-mother a slut?" Lauren questioned with a narrowed gaze.

"Forget it," Payson said waving her hands in surrender. It was way too complex to be bothered going into, and she doubted that Lauren would ever see things without her own twisted skew on the world. "I really don't think it's necessary, Lauren," she told her. "Sasha's not interested."

Lauren grinned brightly at the proclamation. "See, I knew you'd help," she said gratefully. "Wanna come to my house later so we can start phase two?" she asked.

"I want nothing to do with it," Payson said. "For once just leave me out of your scheming, Lauren."

Lauren scoffed loudly. "That's what you always say, Pay," she moaned. "I thought this time you'd actually want to be a part of it, seeing as it benefits you as much as it does me."

"How does it – " Payson began to question, but stopped herself as she realized what Lauren's answer would entail. "Don't answer," she said firmly as Lauren opened her mouth to reply. "I really _do not_ want to be a part of this, Lauren."

"Your loss," Lauren shrugged. "Just don't come crying to me when he up and leaves you for the other woman," she trilled happily as she disappeared.

"I'm guessing that Lauren just informed you of _the plan_," Kaylie said heavily, taking Lauren's place beside her.

"Like only Lauren could," Payson groaned, wiping her hand over her face in frustration.

"I reckon Lauren's scheming will only take about an hour. Do you want to come around after?" Kaylie offered. "We haven't had a girly sleepover in ages.

"Promise we won't stay up too late, Captain Keeler," Kaylie promised when it looked like Payson might disagree.

"Alright," Payson conceded. "But make sure she knows that I'm only there for the sleepover, not to be a part of her scheme."

"I promise," Kaylie agreed brightly.

"And don't worry about her," she added reassuringly. "She's only teasing you because she's feeling a little sore about you getting Max. That's all."

Payson grimaced. She'd been wondering how long she'd be able to get away with things before it came up, and apparently she'd already reached her time limit. "I'm not – "

"Ladies!" Sasha called from the platform outside his office, raising an eyebrow at them challengingly. "Is this a gym or some high school sitcom?

"I thought so," he said before they could reply, moving quickly down the stairs and out towards the annex.

"Guess that's our cue," Payson said, relieved for the escape route Sasha had surreptitiously provided. "What time?"

"About seven," Kaylie said, heading towards the chalk bowl. "Bring any movies you want to watch."

"Alright," Payson nodded as they both moved on to their next rotation.

* * *

><p>The ride home from The Rock was painfully awkward. So much so that even Becca, who was usually busily chattering about her day and impossible to shut up, was sitting silently in the backseat just waiting for it to be over. Payson shifted uncomfortably in the front, her unease not settled by the knowledge of what was making things so uneasy.<p>

"Good luck," Becca whispered to her sister as she ducked eagerly out of the vehicle as soon as it came to a stop, not letting herself get caught in the situation for a moment more.

Payson sighed, surprised that her mother had let her go even this long without talking about things. Then again, her mother probably needed time to digest things herself before determining the best way to approach things.

"I . . . uh . . . guess Sasha told you everything," she put in awkwardly, saving her mother the burden of finding the words to start what would probably be the second most difficult conversation they'd ever had.

Kim nodded stoically. "I wish you'd told me, Payson," she said sadly. "Even if it was just your suspicions."

Payson grimaced slightly. "I didn't want to make a big deal of things without any proof," she explained. "You would have wanted to confront the Tanners and we had enough problems going on with Sasha leaving and Darby's less the capable coaching. We didn't need a witch hunt going on when we had no coach and just two months to get ready for Worlds."

"And after Sasha came back?" Kim asked. "You could have told me then."

Payson shrugged, a small smile pulling on her lips. "Sasha was back," she said, as though that explained everything. "It didn't matter then."

Kim found herself almost speechless at Payson's untroubled reaction to all this. Payson seemed to be taking it so easily and just letting it all go without any residual anger left in her. "Sasha said you had dealt with it," she said with a small frown. "What did he mean?"

Payson looked slightly embarrassed but explained herself, adding the small part she might have left out when talking to Sasha. "I'm not sure if you've noticed, but I haven't exactly been making things easy for Lauren," she said. "I fought her for captain even though I knew it didn't matter. I hung out with Max after she told me not to. I barely acknowledge her that whole time except to pick a fight with her or get her to do something that benefited me.

"And then I guilt-ed her into buying first class tickets to Romania," she finished, slightly prouder of the last of her actions as opposed to the other three. "She helped get Sasha back, so now we're even," she added with a shrug.

"As simple as that?" Kim questioned, more than a little impressed.

"As simple as that," Payson echoed. "Lauren didn't have to help us. She could have just bought the tickets and stayed out of it, and gotten both me and Emily kicked out of the competition. She didn't, so I guess that proves that Lauren isn't _all_ bad."

Kim smiled back, shaking her head affectionately. "How on earth did I manage to raise such a well-adjusted teenaged girl?" she asked teasingly, pulling her daughter into a one-armed hug.

"Dad helped," Payson grinned back, laughing with relief now that everything was out in the open.

"Now about Max," Kim started with a silly grin.

Payson groaned aloud, pulling away. "There's nothing in that," she said seriously. "I thought we were friends, but he kept pushing for more so now we're not even that," she explained as vaguely as possible, while still representing the truth of what happened. Her Mom didn't need to know that the reason that she didn't want to be anything more than friends with Max was because she was hopelessly in love with Sasha. That was a conversation best saved for another day, preferably a day when she could just slowly get her mother used to the fact.

"You know it's okay to like a boy," her mother said softly, placing a consoling hand on her own. "It's not the end of the world and it's not going to stop you from reaching your goals."

"I know that," Payson sighed, her mind turning completely away from the boy Max who admired her beauty and talent, and instead thinking of Sasha Belov, the man that made her great. "I know it doesn't have to be one or the other," she said again, smiling ruefully, "but it doesn't have to be Max Spencer.

"I need someone who pushes me and matches me – someone who would be my equal," she said, words getting away from her as she thought of the man who worked beside her everyday, the two of them changing to become more perfect for one another. "Let's face it, Mom," she added, forcing some joviality into her voice as she attempted a seamless change of subject, "Max is more sidekick than leading man."

Kim laughed at the analogy, quite obviously picturing Austin and Max as Batman and Robin. It seemed to lighten the mood in the car, bringing the conversation to a conclusion and alighting Kim of any residual concerns she had for her daughter's wellbeing.

"So . . . uh . . . Lauren invited me over for a sleepover," Payson put in awkwardly once the laughter faded. "Is that okay?"

"Of course, sweetheart," Kim said warmly. "So long as _you're_ okay being around Lauren," she added, looking concerned. "I don't want to have to pick you up later because a pillow fight turned ugly."

"Mom, I told you it was fine now," Payson repeated exasperatedly, shaking her head. "I was mad at her for driving away our coach, but he's back now and I know she apologised to Sasha in Rio, so everything's fine now."

Kim raised her hands in surrender as a proud smile formed on her lips. "Alright, Payson," she placated. "I just had to check."

Payson nodded firmly, considering everything settled for the time being. She silently collected her things and put her hand on the door, pausing as her mind flagged a couple of loose ends. "Will you tell Dad?" she asked hopefully, not wanting to have to repeat the conversation with her father (particularly the part about Max). Kim nodded and Payson let out a sigh of relief. "You can tell Becca if you want," she offered in return, some sort of compromise she didn't know she was making. "I mean, it's not like she's gonna find out from someone else, but you know how much Becca hates being left out of the loop."

"She really does," Kim agreed with a laugh. "Are you going to tell Lauren that you know?" she asked curiously.

Payson thought about the question, as she had been since Sasha revealed things to her. Anyone who knew Sasha well enough would have realised that he'd have told her as soon as practicable, but she doubted the thought had even occurred to Lauren that Sasha might not be keeping her secret. As far as Lauren knew Payson was oblivious to what really happened with the video, and had completely moved on from 'the incident'.

Eventually Payson shook her head, making her decision not for herself, but for Lauren's sake. "The team's in a really good place right now," she explained forthrightly. "I don't want to ruin that by creating drama."

Kim smiled warmly, nodding her head in understanding. "You're a good friend, Payson," she commended.

Payson just shrugged and headed inside, hoping Lauren wasn't about to make her regret that decision with whatever fun activities she had planned for the evening.

Well, it was worth a shot.


	9. The Masterplan

**PRICELESS ****_adj._**

**_of inestimable worth  
>so precious its value cannot be determined<em>**

Disclaimer: I do not own **Make It or Break It**.

* * *

><p>Summary: No matter what it always came back to him – to the one person who had seen her at her best and her worst and found beauty in both. Who could put a value on that? PaysonSasha

* * *

><p><strong>IX. The Masterplan<strong>

"Hi, Mr Tanner," Payson offered brightly as Steve Tanner answered the door later that evening.

"Hello, Payson," Steve replied in a similarly bright tone. In that moment Payson knew that he knew all about Lauren and the videotape. His smile was far too wide and, even as a seasoned liar, he wasn't quick enough to mask his surprise at seeing her there at his door. "How was everything in LA and New York?" he asked, quickly moving on to pleasantries to cover his first reaction.

"It was good," she offered vaguely. "Busier than I expected."

"That's good," he replied generically. "If you'll excuse me, I'm waiting for a business call from Florence," he said, making his excuses. "Lauren and Kaylie are in her room."

"Thanks," she nodded, following the familiar route to Lauren's bedroom and as happy to take her leave of the conversation as Steve. Pre-Worlds party aside, it had been months since she'd been in the Tanner House, let alone Lauren's bedroom, but she still knew her way around. Lauren's house was actually kind of small compared to Kaylie's, which had rooms that they didn't even know existed.

As she approached Lauren's room, the door suddenly opened and Kaylie ducked out, shutting the door behind her. "Thank god I caught you," Kaylie said, relief flooding her features as she spotted Payson. "I'm so sorry."

"Why?" Payson asked cautiously, already expecting the worst.

Kaylie grimaced, reluctant to explain. "Lauren's decided that in order for her plan to succeed she has to get Sasha a girlfriend," she said, rolling her eyes. "I know I said I'd get her to leave you out of this, but I need you talk Lauren out of this first. She's like seconds away from signing Sasha up to 'Lonely Hearts'."

"Of course she is," Payson groaned, touching her fingers between her brows. "How on earth is that supposed to help her 'plan'?" she asked, the last word leaving off with a sarcastic bite.

"You don't want to know," Kaylie assured her.

Payson groaned once more. "What did she say?" she demanded.

"You know how Lo gets," Kaylie offered weakly in Lauren's defence before throwing the other girl under the bus. "She said that it was her last resort and that it was your fault because you – and I quote – refused to do your part in seducing Sasha.

"And then she – "

The door flew open again, cutting off whatever it was that Kaylie was about to say. Lauren latched onto the both of them, pulling them inside with a demanding tug. "Thank god you're finally here," she said to Payson, shutting the door firmly behind them. "I need your help making Sasha a dating profile. I need to put down Sasha's interest and I didn't want to use fishing because you're pretty much the only person in the world who thinks that's attractive."

Payson almost felt offended on Sasha's behalf that Lauren could only think of the one interest, but then she stopped and remembered to feel offended for herself, because even she thought 'Fishing' was a pretty dry hobby. Sadly, rebuffing the offense would have to wait for the time being as putting a stop to Lauren's ridiculous schemes took precedence over the efficiency of Lauren's insult.

"Lauren, how exactly do you plan on getting Sasha to date these people?" she asked, attacking a weak point in Lauren's plan rather than the whole thing generally. It was always best to start with a small attack and work your way up to destruction. "You have met Sasha, right?" she added dryly, her tone unmistakeably condescending. "He's not gonna let you set him up on a blind date."

"I'm sure I'll think of something," Lauren brushed off. "Do you know Sasha's exact height? I guessed about 6'3" but Kaylie reckons he's shorter than that 'cause Austin's only 6 foot."

"He's not interested in getting back together with Summer," Payson said crossly, ignoring Lauren's question. "You know you can just google this information?" she added. "He has a Wikipedia page."

"Good point," Lauren said brightly, not seeming to attend to Payson's blithe tone. "And he's not interested right now, but he might be later. People get lonely and Summer's pretty much the only attractive prospect at the gym. It's not like he goes anywhere else, so it's either Summer or slobbering gym mother's like Chloe Kmetko.

"Oh I am so editing this later," she added distractedly as she found his page.

"Sasha isn't that desperate," Kaylie put in, saving Payson from being the one to have to defend Sasha's attractiveness. "I'm sure he'd have no problem getting a date on his own if he wanted one, but obviously he doesn't. He's the Women's National Team coach and the personal coach of seven nationally ranked athletes. I'm sure he's got much more important things on his mind than dating."

Payson would have hugged Kaylie for her efforts if it wouldn't have raised questions. It was exactly on point, and if Sasha really wanted a date he could probably walk into any bar in Boulder and have a stack of phone numbers within minutes. She doubted that there would ever be a time in Sasha's life when he would struggle to attain female attention.

Not that Lauren was likely to see it that way. They both knew what Lauren was like, and once she had an idea stuck in her head . . .

"That's why we need to do it for him. Duh!" Lauren replied to Kaylie's argument, only hearing what she wanted to hear. "He doesn't have time to find himself a girlfriend, so we have to do it for him."

"Lauren," Payson began, keeping her tone calm and even despite wishing she could throttle Lauren right now, "I know you just want to help" – _'or something,'_ she added silently – "but maybe you should just leave this alone for now," she suggested hopefully.

"We've all had a pretty hard few months with everything that happened leading up to Worlds and with Sasha leaving – I mean, especially Sasha," she added, feigning an aside. She knew she was hitting below the belt, but there was nothing in this world more powerful than guilt. "He almost lost everything – his career and all the friends he had made here in Boulder – and all of it is just starting to get back to normal. I think the last thing he needs right now is a new relationship."

Lauren turned pale at the allusion to what happened, and Payson couldn't help but hope that maybe Lauren was finally understanding exactly what she had done to Sasha. She had almost ruined the man's life, after all, and who knows where they'd all be if he hadn't been willing to come back. They had all been hurt by his absence and Lauren was lucky that things had turned out alright in the end. For most of them at least.

"You're right," Lauren said quietly, her expression harrowed and guilty. "Pay, there's something I need to tell you," she said in a small voice, her eyes lowered to the ground.

It was the same tone that had crept into Lauren's voice before she made her confession about Max in Rio. At the time Payson had been disappointed in Lauren, who had been right in with Kaylie chastising Kelly for something trifling in comparison to her own sins. Not that Payson actually expected more from Lauren, but on that occasion she had allowed herself to hope.

She wouldn't set herself up for disappointment this time.

"If it's about Max, then I don't care," she said succinctly, genuinely indifferent. "Max and I aren't together so whatever it is, it's none of my business."

"That's not – "

"You're not?" Kaylie asked, talking over Lauren's reply. "But he came to Rio and Austin said you loved him and that Max feels the same."

_'Of course he did,'_ Payson mused scathingly. When on earth did the Rock boys become such gossips?

"I wouldn't go that far," she played down awkwardly, once again regretting her accidental confession of love to the wrong guy. "I do like him," she lied, "but after what happened at Worlds I realised that I was right all along.

"Boys just get in the way of what matters," she told them wisely with a stoic nod. "And what matters right now is my family and my teammates and my dream. Boyfriends can wait until after the Olympics.

"The right guy will wait," she added, remembering her talk with Sasha the night before. Sasha had more or less told her that he was willing to wait for her – to put her dreams first – and she knew that any relationship they might eventually have would be sweeter for it.

"So he's waiting?" Lauren asked, talking about Max, not Sasha. She seemed to have forgotten about her own revelations for the time being. "Like Emily and Damon?"

"Except obviously not," she added sheepishly as the other two grimaced. As romantic as the idea of waiting and reconnecting in Paris had been, it obviously hadn't worked out in practice and now Emily's dream was over because of her one stupid mistake.

"He's not," Payson said shaking her head. "Max didn't get it."

Lauren looked like she genuinely felt bad for her, even with the trace of smugness in her expression that said she totally called it. "I'm sorry," Lauren said seriously, lightly squeezing Payson's hand.

"I'm not," Payson shrugged. She slipped her hands from Lauren's and gave her friend's hand a quick tap as though to say 'I'm fine'. "He just wasn't the right guy."

"Do you really believe that, Pay?" Kaylie asked, not entirely convinced by Payson's easy acceptance of the end of a relationship.

"I do," Payson assured her. "Do you think we could change the subject?" she asked them, having talked about Max Spencer (but really talking about Sasha) long enough. "How'd we even end up talking about that?" she added jokingly, her laugh ringing awkwardly in the room.

Lauren shifted uncomfortably at the reminder, her features darkening once again. "I'm sorry," she said, her expression distraught. "I'm so sorry, Payson."

Payson wondered if she might have discounted Lauren too quickly this time – if maybe Lauren really had changed. She eyed the other girl cautiously, keeping her expression guarded. "What did you do, Lauren?" she questioned, judgment and accusation seeping into her tone.

"Lo?" Kaylie asked more gently, eying her friend with a mixture of sympathy and mistrust. She sat close to her friend, a hand on her shoulder as she silently encouraged her to keep going.

"I'm so sorry," Lauren said again, nearly sobbing. "And you've got to believe me when I say I never meant to hurt you, Payson.

"I did it," she confessed. "I sent the training cam video to Ellen Beals. And I'm so sorry."

"You didn't . . ." Kaylie gaped disbelievingly, physically recoiling at the revelation.

Payson just stared on in shock as she tried to process the fact that Lauren had just admitted the truth about the video and work out how she should react. She didn't think she could tell Lauren the truth, not after all they'd gone through in the last few months. Lauren wouldn't understand and it would only hurt them all in the process. It was Lauren that said it after all: some secrets are better off kept silent.

When she finally found her voice, there was only one thing she could say. "Why?" she asked, her tongue heavy with the words unsaid.

_"I don't know_."

Payson shook her head, anger building inside of her. She could read Lauren like an open book and the lie was written all over her face. "Don't lie to me," she said vehemently. "Why did you do it?"

If possible Lauren looked even more guilty, turning her head to avoid their accusing looks. "I wanted Summer to marry my dad," she admitted quietly. "I just wanted my family back.

"I'm sorry, Payson," she said again, the words getting tired and losing their meaning. "I didn't even think about what would happen. It was just supposed to make Summer jealous so she'd break up with Sasha. I didn't think that Beals would show it to everyone like that."

"Of course you didn't," Payson muttered disdainfully, the thoughtlessness of Lauren's actions re-opening old wounds. "You never think any of this through, Lauren," she said reproachfully. "You never think about the consequences of your actions. All you thought about was what you wanted and you didn't give a damn how it was going to affect me.

"How it was going to affect Sasha," she added more passionately. "You didn't just break up some doomed relationship," she pointed out with a spiteful lilt to her voice. "You got him fired."

Lauren balked, the accusation in Payson's tone putting her on the defensive. "I knew you wouldn't understand," she said blithely. "You've got your mom and your dad and you don't know what it's like, Payson. My family – "

"Don't you dare," Payson said, cutting her off. "Don't try to put this on me, Lauren," she said firmly. "You did something awful and you need to own up to it. I don't want to hear you making some stupid excuse."

"I said I was sorry," Lauren retorted, her lip jutting in the petulant way it did right before she asked daddy to step in and force things to go her way.

"You did," Payson conceded. "But there's big different between saying sorry and being sorry, Lauren." She laughed a little to herself, not even sure what she was doing anymore. She was over it, she really was, but there was still a part of her that wanted Lauren to _feel_ what she'd done. It would just be too easy to accept the apology and move on, and she wanted Lauren to face some sort of consequence or repercussion to her actions - to actually face up to something for once.

"I'm not sure you understand what you did here," she said, eventually finding the words to express her thoughts. "Do you realize how many people you hurt in this, Lauren?

"And I'm not just talking about me," she added as Lauren opened her mouth to protest, "who you _humiliated_ for weeks on end with your snide comments about my middle-aged boyfriend. Or our coach who you drove out of the country. Or your own step-mother whose relationship you destroyed.

"What about Kaylie and Emily?" she asked passionately. She was really getting on a roll now. "Or any of the other girls at The Rock? You almost destroyed their chances of getting to the Olympics or a good college, not to mention your own.

"Saying you're sorry doesn't even begin to make up for it, Lauren," she finished with a cool look.

Lauren's expression fell with every word. The smug condescension and self-righteousness slipped slowly away as Payson hammered home to her just how badly she had messed up this time. "What do you want me to do?" Lauren asked, her voice uncharacteristically meek,

Payson shook her head. "I don't know," she said. "That's kind of part of the problem, Lauren. You can't expect us all to just fix this for you.

"You did something really awful this time," she said, disappointment clear in her tone. "You need work out your own way to make up for it.

"I should go," she added, gathering the bag she'd brought with her but hadn't had the chance to do more with.

"Does this mean you don't forgive me?" Lauren asked, worry clear in her expression.

Payson shook her head again, unable to hide her exasperation. "Honestly, Lauren – not right now. You just need to give me some space to deal with this, okay?"

Lauren nodded, her expression pursed as she tried not to cry.

Without looking back, Payson let herself out, grateful that she'd had the forethought to drive herself to Lauren's. Even though she'd already dealt with it and come to terms with it, she knew she couldn't be around Lauren right now. She just felt so angry at Lauren for bringing up the past and for ruining everything she'd done to keep the team together. It was like it was all for nothing now.

As she passed The Rock on her way home, she was tempted to drive in and talk to Sasha. She could see his motorcycle in its usual parking space and she knew he'd know exactly what to say. He'd tell her that it was okay and that forgiving Lauren didn't mean that she wasn't allowed to be mad with her and that she'd done the right thing, even if it was for selfish reasons and not the honourable ones she had cited earlier.

But she didn't want Sasha to see her like this. Not right now. She was being selfish and petty and she felt like the worst person in the world, and she couldn't stand the idea of Sasha seeing this version of her. Instead she wanted her Moma and to just crawl up into her mother's lap like she had when she was a kid.

Her best friend had betrayed her. And Lauren's confession just made it that much worse.

* * *

><p>"Lauren, how could you?" Kaylie asked, her voice lacking the force of righteous anger that had hung on Payson's every word. She cringed inwardly, her question seeming almost pathetic after everything that Payson had said already.<p>

"I didn't think it would hurt anyone," Lauren protested weakly. The tears she'd been holding back in front of Payson now bubbled out of her, creating dark trails of mascara along her cheeks. "Not like this."

"That doesn't excuse it, Lo," Kaylie said, repeating Payson's point.

"You had to have known what Ellen Beals would do with the tape," she pushed, not seeing how Lauren could be so oblivious to the consequences. "She's had it in for Sasha from the start. You had to know that there was at least a risk that Beals would use that tape to get Sasha fired."

"I didn't think about it," Lauren said more insistently, her voice rising a little with every word. They both knew she was lying. There was no way she couldn't have known what Beals would do with the tape – there was no reason to send it to Beals unless that was somehow her intention.

"You were trying to get rid of him," Kaylie accused.

"I . . . not especially," Lauren argued weakly. "I mean, I knew there was at least a chance that Beals would use the video to get rid of Sasha, but I didn't set out to get him fired," she promised. "I just didn't really care and I figured it he did, then he had it coming.

"He had three athletes on the National Team, and all he ever cared about was Payson," she explained haughtily.

Kaylie gave her a hard look, shaking her head in judgment. "She was injured, Lauren," she said in a dry tone. "Payson needed him more than us."

"She _always_ needed him more than us," Lauren countered in the same dry tone. "It wasn't just after her accident, Kaylie – that's what it's always been like since Sasha got here. If you weren't Payson, it was like he didn't even care what you were doing.

"We were just collateral," she shrugged, her tone biting. "He never came to The Rock for anything but Payson."

"You know that's not true."

Lauren scoffed. "Don't kid yourself, Kay," she replied, sarcasm and insult her natural defences against their disappointment. "You weren't even on Sasha's radar before he came to The Rock. He – "

"Lauren, stop trying to excuse what you did," Kaylie said, cutting Lauren off before the other girl could turn it all around with some rant about Sasha's limited attention span. Sasha had been a good coach, and he'd been there for all of them when they needed him. And the extra attention they all knew he lavished upon Payson didn't condone her actions for one second.

Kaylie hardened her features, promising herself that she wouldn't let Lauren distract her this time. "Did you even think about Payson in all this?" she asked, the words practically an accusation. "You completely embarrassed her."

Lauren's expression soured, turning all the more condescending. She couldn't take Kaylie lecturing her, not when she'd been the first one to tease Payson about her crush on their old man coach. She got enough hypocrisy from Summer without Kaylie throwing her hat in the ring.

"Then maybe she should have thought about that before she tried to make out with our coach," she said nastily, sending Kaylie a sham smile. "I don't know why you're putting all this on me," she added defensively. "Payson's the one who started all this by throwing herself at Sasha. It was her actions that almost got him fired, and she's acting like I'm the bad guy here."

Kaylie let out a mean laugh, giving Lauren an incredulous look. "Seriously, Lo?" she asked dryly. "You sent the video tape to Ellen Beals, you don't get to pretend like Payson brought this upon herself.

"Why would you do something like that?"

Lauren shifted her gaze, her haughty defence dropping immediately. "Lo?" Kaylie asked again, her voice more gentle. She dropped a hand on her friends shoulder and asked her one more time. "Why would you do that, Lo?"

"Because I was jealous," Lauren finally burst. "Even with a back injury and having to start again from scratch, she still has a better chance of making the Olympics than both of us combined. I might not have set out intentionally to hurt her, but there was a part of me that was okay with Payson getting knocked down a peg or two.

"Are you happy?" she asked Kaylie, tears rolling from her eyes once again. "Is that what you want to hear, Kaylie? That I wanted to hurt Payson? That I wanted Sasha gone?

"I'm a bad person," she sobbed. "I get it.

"But you're my best friend, Kaylie," she pleaded, reaching for her friend's hand, "and right now I need you to be _my_ friend, not Payson's and just . . . be okay with that."

"Lauren," Kaylie said slowly, some of the righteousness and anger fading from her voice as she moved closer. "This is the worst thing you've ever done," she said, her tone placating, "but you're my best friend, Lo, so . . . yeah."

Lauren nodded, smiling timidly at the words. "I know it doesn't mean anything, but I really didn't want anything bad to happen to Payson or to Sasha," she promised. "I just need Payson to see how sorry I am."

"I know, Lauren," Kaylie assured her gently. "Payson will come 'round eventually. You just need to show her that you really mean it this time – that you get how much you hurt people. And I think to do that, you have to find a way to fix it with everyone else first, then Payson."

"But how am I supposed to do that?" Lauren questioned.

"I don't know," Kaylie replied, thoughtfully. "You could start by making it up to Summer by leaving her to sort her own love life. It's sort of like the punishment fits the crime."

Lauren nodded, albeit reluctantly, as she acquiesced to Kaylie's plan. It had, after all, been her attempts to get Summer with her father that had gotten her into this mess in the first place.

"And for Sasha and everyone else . . . I think you should come up with something yourself," Kaylie continued.

"I . . . you're right," Lauren agreed.

"I'll make it up to you, Kaylie," she said solemnly. "I promise."


	10. Breakaway

**PRICELESS ****_adj._**

**_of inestimable worth  
>so precious its value cannot be determined<em>**

Disclaimer: I do not own **Make It or Break It**.

* * *

><p>Summary: No matter what it always came back to him – to the one person who had seen her at her best and her worst and found beauty in both. Who could put a value on that? PaysonSasha

* * *

><p><strong>X. Breakaway<strong>

In spite of everything that had happened the previous day, Payson refused to be swayed from her usual routine. Today was a Tuesday, so she woke up at 5:30am, just like she would any other training day. She changed into her running clothes, updated her iPod, gathered what she needed and was out the door with two minutes to spare. Just in time to run headlong into Sasha Belov as she flicked her eyes away from her intended path to select a playlist.

"Sorry, I thought you saw me," Sasha apologised, his hands on her shoulders to steady her.

"I wasn't really paying attention," she replied sheepishly, tucking an imagined piece of stray hair behind her ear. "There's not normally anyone else out at this time. Especially at this time of year."

"I wonder why," he mused thoughtfully, eyes skimming the near darkness broken only by the beam of the occasional streetlight.

Payson ignored the dry comment, shaking her head. "Morning," she greeted instead with a small smile, remembering her manners and the fact that in spite of his unexpected appearance interrupting her routine, she was genuinely pleased to see him. It was just what she needed – a suddenly appearing Sasha to lighten her spirits after the awfulness of the previous evening.

"Morning," he grinned back at her with a familiar gleam in his eyes. They were lit with amusement, the way they sometimes did when he was teasing her. She narrowed her eyes and lifted an eyebrow expectantly, daring him to say it. "Just admiring your light fixture, Pay," he teased, tapping her head mounted lamp.

"It's practical," she protested.

"Obviously," he grinned. "Doesn't make it any less adorable," he added, solely to watch her expression darken into a fetching pout. "You're like a cute li'l miner."

"Did you want something?" she asked, crossing her arms. She didn't particularly care that her question came off as impolite. He'd started it, after all.

Realizing that she wasn't going to take the bait, he nodded solemnly, amusement fading to concern. "Your mum called me about what happened with Lauren last night," he told her.

"Are you alright, Payson?" he asked softly.

Her eyes narrowed and she huffed with annoyance, disliking the pity she heard in his tone. She hated that her mother had gone over her head like that, and more so that Sasha had a tendency to do the same and thought it perfectly okay. It made her feel like a child and made her want to revolt against him instead of accepting the comfort he was trying to offer.

"You don't need to check up on me," she said darkly.

"I know," Sasha said, giving her a gentle, understanding smile and catching her hand. She could still read the concern in his eyes, but was appeased by the warmth of his smile.

The rest of her was set off again by his next words. "I'm not here to check on you, Payson. Your mum recruited me.

"She thinks you should stay away from the gym today and she knew you wouldn't listen to anyone else," he told her. "I think she's right. You and Lauren need to be away from each other. Just for today."

Payson scowled at him, taking back possession of her hand and fisting them at her sides. "Then make her stay at home," she replied sourly. "She's the one who messed up, so she should be the one to miss training. Not me."

"Who said anything about missing training?" Sasha asked with a mysterious smile.

"But you said –"

"You weren't going to The Rock," he reiterated, cutting her off. "Today we're doing some off-site training."

"We?" she questioned, looking more enthused by the new prospect. She tried to hold back some of her eagerness – biting her lip to suppress a smile – but knew the reasons for her change of mood were quite transparent.

"We," he confirmed. "So really Lauren's the one missing out.

"You get me all to yourself," he added, taking her hand once again and tugging her a step closer. She didn't resist, and he used the opportunity to pull her into a loose hug, smiling as her arms slid around his neck.

"I suppose that doesn't sound _too_ awful," she said airily, smiling coyly. "But first I've got to do my run."

"Of course," Sasha nodded. "Mind if I join you?"

She nodded, finally appreciating the fact that Sasha was not dressed in his usual jeans-jacket combination, but a pair of track pants, a loose sweatshirt and trainers. He had come prepared for her daily routine, knowing she wouldn't break it for anything short of injury or natural disaster. She flicked on her headlamp – the one he had teased her for – and smiled cheekily before using his sturdy frame to push herself off with a running start.

The challenge was issued without a word, and Sasha easily kept up despite the ten years and fully operational knee she had to her advantage. He even kept up with her through some of the more difficult trails in Chautauqua Park, his feet as sure as her own as they navigated the uneven terrain.

"Bet you thought you were the only one who knew this shortcut," he said between breaths, taking the lead on a narrow part of the path.

"Yes," she replied huffily, lagging a little to his longer stride. "When do you run?"

"Sometimes after practice," he replied, glancing briefly over his shoulder. "It's a pretty good stress reliever if we've had a hard day. You should try it."

"Maybe," she said. "I like the mornings, though. Less people around. I can pretend I have the whole park to myself."

"So you like to run alone?" Sasha asked curiously.

Payson shrugged, a smirk pulling on her lips. "I don't mind having a partner," she told him easily, before suddenly sprinting past him as the path they were on bulged at the corner.

"Just so long as they can keep up."

* * *

><p>When Lauren came into the gym that morning she was in a surprisingly good mood. She had a plan. She was going to talk to Summer and Sasha and Payson and she was going to apologise and fix things and then Payson wouldn't hate her and Summer would want to be her mum again.<p>

At least that was the plan.

"Summer's 'sick' and Sasha's not here today," Lauren said, the look on her face telling Kaylie exactly what Lauren thought that meant and that Lauren was already blaming her for the coincidence.

"I'm sure it's not what you think, Lauren," Kaylie tried to placate. "And so what if it is? You promised you were going to stay out of Summer's love life."

"So now I don't even get to comment when she makes bad choices," Lauren huffed judgmentally. "Sasha is _so_ not the right guy for her. I mean, Summer looks like she was dressed by a J Crew catalogue. I don't think Sasha even knows what that is," she concluded, her voice lowering to a stage whisper as she spoke sacrilegiously.

Kaylie looked at her dryly and shook her head. "Don't you think we should be more worried about Payson?" she asked. "Payson would never miss a day of practice unless she was sick. And Payson _never_ gets sick."

"You don't think she's left, do you?" Lauren asked, now justifiably concerned about a conspicuous absence. Summer probably was, in all actuality, sick, where as Payson had never missed a day of training unless there was a really good reason. Sasha had to practically ban her from stepping into the gym when her back was playing up before Nationals, so if she wasn't there, it had to be something serious.

"I don't think so," Kaylie said, giving the question serious thought. "Payson wouldn't leave.

"She wouldn't leave Sasha," she added more firmly, not wanting to give Lauren false hope or leave her any room to believe that she had anything to do with Payson continuing at The Rock. "She got on a plane to Romania just to get him back. She wouldn't leave."

"She might go to Denver," Lauren pressed, still not ready to let it go.

Kaylie rolled her eyes at the thought. "She's mad at you, not Sasha. She's not going to go train with Marty when we have the best coach in the world here at The Rock.

"Besides, Becca and Mrs Keeler are still here, so she can't have left," she concluded firmly. "We should just ask," she added. "It's stupid us standing around speculating when we can just ask."

"You ask," Lauren said quickly, edging away. "I'm not exactly anyone's favourite right now," she said with a casual shrug.

"Payson's mom isn't like that, she'll be cool," Kaylie insisted. Lauren didn't budge, so she made her way up to the gym office on her own.

"Good morning, Mrs Keeler," she greeted brightly.

"Morning, Kaylie," Kim replied, sounding tired and slightly. "What can I –" Before she could even get the question out, the phone started ringing and Kim held up a hand as she went to answer it. "Rocky Mountain Gymna –

"No, I'm sorry. Coach Belov is unavailable right now.

"Yes, I'm sure your daughter is a very good gymnast and –

"He really isn't available. If you'd like to try –

"In that case I'll be sure to let him know what he's missing out on." With a frustrated half-grunt she slammed the phone down on the cradle. Taking a deep breath to calm herself, she turned back to Kaylie. "What can I do for you, Kaylie?"

"I just wanted to . . . Is Payson okay?" Kaylie asked cautiously.

"She's upset," Kim replied gently. "She won't be in today."

"Is it that bad?" Kaylie asked, the words flying out without thinking. Kim smiled indulgently, knowing that the words – callous as they might sound – were said out of concern.

"If Payson had her way, she'd be here, but I thought it would be a good idea for her to take the day off," she told Kaylie, doing her best to reassure her. "She'll be in tomorrow."

"Okay," Kaylie said, looking relieved. "Thanks, Mrs Keeler," she said brightly, sending her friend's mom a smile before heading back down to the floor.

"So?" Lauren asked, meeting her at the bottom of the stairs.

"Payson's just taking a day off."

Lauren let out a sigh of relief. "So what about Sasha and Summer?" she asked, back to her first concern now that Payson's absence had been dealt with. "Did Mrs Keeler say if they were . . . together?"

"I didn't ask," Kaylie shrugged nonchalantly. "It's none of our business, Lo, and you know it.

"If Summer and Sasha want to be together, it's _their choice_," she reiterated firmly. "Okay?"

"Yeah," Lauren agreed reluctantly. "I still think he'd make more sense with Payson," she muttered, speaking more to herself than to Kaylie.

"Lauren," Kaylie reprimanded, the pitch of her voice raised in outrage. "If you want Payson to forgive you, you should probably start by not saying stuff like that."

"It was just an observation," Lauren replied sulkily. "But I'll keep it to myself."

Kaylie's expression softened a little. She was always such a pushover when it came to Lauren. They'd been best friends for so long that there was nothing that Lauren could do to alienate her. She had forgiven her for Carter, and that was pretty much the worst thing that Lauren could do to her. If she could forgive her for that betrayal, then she could forgive her for this too.

"Did you think about what you're going to do to make it up to everyone?" Kaylie asked her gently.

Lauren nodded, having spent half the night coming up with ways to fix everything she broke. "The punishment has to fit the crime, right?" she said. "I almost ruined everyone's chance, so I have to do something to make them all better.

"So, I'm gonna have daddy pay for an additional coach," she announced proudly, clapping her hands in joy. "Isn't that great?"

Kaylie smiled weakly. It was a nice thought, and Lauren's heart was in the right place, but . . . "Lauren, you can't just throw money at this to fix it," she said solemnly. "I get where you're coming on," she conceded, "but I think it's going to take more than that. You – "

"No, I get it," Lauren sighed. Spending money was something that came easy to her. It didn't require any effort, and it didn't really mean anything. It didn't show how sorry she was. It just showed how good she was at manipulating people, especially her father.

"I want to fix this," she assured Kaylie, her expression solemn.

"I know, Lauren," Kaylie sighed. "I know."

~ to be continued ~

* * *

><p>Inspiration! And I've got a few ideas for where I want this to go. And hopefully I'll be able to keep up some writing on this for a while.<p> 


	11. All This and Heaven Too

**PRICELESS ****_adj._**

**_of inestimable worth  
>so precious its value cannot be determined<em>**

Disclaimer: I do not own **Make It or Break It**.

* * *

><p>Summary: No matter what it always came back to him – to the one person who had seen her at her best and her worst and found beauty in both. Who could put a value on that? PaysonSasha

* * *

><p><strong>XI. All This and Heaven Too<strong>

Payson frowned, features creased with curiosity as she took in the familiar building, evidently a part of her 'training'. She held back a grimace, wary of what that might entail given their current location.

Sasha was oddly quiet, not having a word to say as he led her into the building and then through different hallways with a hand pressed to the small of her back. She paused in the lobby, giving him a dubious look before she let him take her any further.

"I must have a death wish to agree to your 'surprises'," she commented drily, lifting an eyebrow in silent demand of an explanation.

Sasha just grinned back at her. "You'll like this one," he assured, urging her through one last set of doors. He dropped his hand from her back as they walked into the theatre (the same that they had visited several months earlier when they attended _Swan Lake_ together) and she felt instantly disappointed. And then a familiar voice rose from the orchestra pit.

"If I wanted to see a _faille_ that heavy footed, Miss Worthington, I would have cast an eight tonne elephant in your role,"the voice called clearly, each word so sharp and precisely British. "Again, and this time try to actually SPRING as you come forward."

"Yes, Mistress Viola," the dancer replied, her head ducked in submission.

_"You are late,"_ the same voice called from her clove of darkness.

"You're still rehearsing," Sasha retorted, a slight whine of petulance to his tone. Payson followed, keeping close to his side as he walked purposefully towards the stage.

"That doesn't stop you from being late, Alexandru. You know I abhor tardiness," came the reprimanding reply as Viola Pettinger herself stepped out into the stage. But she smiled all the same, her eyes on Payson rather than Sasha. "Miss Keeler," she greeted warmly, a hand outstretched towards her second most difficult pupil. "Come here and show my ballerinas a thing or two about being light on their feet."

"Me?" Payson asked, completely floored by the suggestion. "I don't think so." She shook her head, backing from the imposing stage and letting Sasha fall between them.

"Why not?" Viola asked imperiously. "If anyone would know about being light on their feet I would think it would be a gymnast such as yourself."

"Vee," Sasha cautioned, putting a stop to the banter. He knew Viola genuinely liked Payson and that this was her way of showing her regard for a former pupil, but he could also see that Payson was uncomfortable at the thought of performing in front of real ballerinas. This was simply something he would have to continue to work with her on – on finding grace and beauty in herself outside of gymnastics.

"Very well," Viola huffed. She turned back to her ballerinas, dismissing them for the rest of the afternoon. Then her gaze was back upon Payson. "I assume you have something suitable to wear," she questioned, followed by the haughty addendum, "Remember I teach ballet, not acrobatics."

"Got it covered," one of the ballerinas on stage piped up holding up a shopping bag.

Payson admonished herself for not recognizing her straightaway – she always got a little thrown off whenever she saw Jayden without her customary baseball hat. She let out a girlish gasp at the recognition, pleasantly surprised to see the unlikely ballerina centre stage

Sasha grinned at her smugly, dipping his head towards her so he could whisper in her ear. "I told you you'd like my surprise."

She beamed back up at him for a moment, her eyes bright with gratitude, before following Jayden backstage to get into her something suitable. Sasha was glad to see her looking so excited.

Once Payson returned to the stage, Viola put her straight with ballet drills.

"Thankfully you've retained most of what I taught you," Viola noted, sending a look towards Sasha that suggested he was to blame for any losses that may have occurred. Payson had not continued in her ballet lessons in his absence and he had to admit that there was a small part of him pleased by that fact. Ballet was something that belonged to the two of them, and it seemed wrong for her to be there without him.

Once Viola was completely satisfied, it was Jayden's turn to take up the position of taskmaster. He, Payson, and Viola all took their seats while Jayden cued up the music and took to the stage.

The music opened with the tinkling of a harp, light and quick. Then building into something stronger as it continued, bringing with it percussion and string instruments, and eventually the paunchy beat of a rock ballad. Booming drums that practically demanded the most difficult tumbling pass he could imagine.

Jayden's choreography followed in the same way, building from precise, delicate movements towards more expressive and dynamic movements, pulling back suddenly as the percussion dropped out, and then instantly back to where it had left off. It was all immaculate lines and flawless twirls, and constantly moving forward like perpetual motion.

He could immediately see it in his mind's eyes – Payson performing this routine in the O2 Arena in London and taking home the gold medal (a full sweep of them if he had his way). He was already planning the gymnastics choreography in his mind, figuring out where the most work would be needed and a timeframe for when it would be competition ready.

"That was amazing," Payson enthused beside him as Jayden finished.

Jayden gave a flourishing bow and eyed the rest of her audience. Viola looked both impressed and slightly aggravated, pointing out that a classical composition would be more appropriate and that given some time she could surely find a suitable piece to suit the choreography. Which left Sasha to settle the tie with three pairs of eyes upon him staring intently.

"C'mon, Sasha," Jayden said eagerly, her expression the most forceful of the three – she certainly wasn't beyond physically forcing him to agree with her. "No one ever said that being an artistic gymnast meant limiting Payson to classical ballet music.

"You know me," she added with an easy shrug. "I'm all about breaking stereotypes."

Viola hummed in disagreement, eyes narrowed sternly in that look that she'd probably perfected from years of watching his mother deal with his mischief as a little boy. But it was the third pair of eyes – a muted blue-green framed with light brown lashes – that did him in. Payson smiled at him pleadingly, her expression making it impossible to go against her wishes. Not that he even considered thinking otherwise. The National Committee thought they had her figured out – kept trying to fit her into boxes and tell her who she was – and it was about time they mixed things up again.

He paused for a moment, though, goading her that little bit just so he could see her pouting response. "Well," he said slowly, thoughtfully. "I know how much you've been dying to incorporate some more power elements into your routines."

Payson almost yelped with joy, doubly pleased by his response. She'd regained a lot of her old skills over the last few months (as evidenced by her vault at Worlds) and he hadn't missed any of the heavy-handed hints she'd been dropping in that regard.

She held his gaze for a moment, conveying her gratitude and somehow the distinct impression that she owed him a kiss later, before she joined Jayden on stage so she could start learning the choreography. Under Jayden's expert tutelage, she picked it up quickly.

Viola gave a small hum of amusement beside him. "That girl has you wrapped around her finger and she doesn't even know it."

He froze, startled by Viola's observation. She shook her head and continued. "I'm not blind, Alexandru," she said drolly. She looked straight ahead, watching Jayden and Payson rather than looking for his reaction. "It was obvious the first time you came to see me about her."

"I'm . . . we, I mean . . . nothing's happened," he spluttered uselessly, unsure of what he needed to say.

Viola shrugged. "That's none of my business," she said plainly. She turned her head slightly, not quite meeting his gaze. "I'm glad you came back, Alexandru."

"I meant to stay away," he admitted, his voice wistful. "She wouldn't let me."

He saw Viola grinning from the corner of his eye. "I knew I liked her," she declared. "Even with the gymnastics," she added disparagingly. "Such a waste of talent."

He'd always known that jealousy was at the heart of most of Viola's barbs about gymnastics. "What do you expect?" he asked with a small smirk. "They don't give out gold medals for _Pas seul_."

* * *

><p>It was afternoon by the time they left the theatre, most of the day already gone and the light already dimmer than when they went in. Payson hugged both Jayden and Viola before she left, swapping cellphone numbers with Jayden and promising Viola she'd be in studio next week to reinstate her ballet lessons.<p>

"Ready to go home?" Sasha questioned rhetorically, keys jiggling in his hand.

"Not yet."

She knew he hadn't meant it as anything more than a casual herding towards the car, but her answer slipped out before she could stop herself. It had been such a good day – one where she didn't have to think about Lauren or training or whatever dramas were happening at The Rock. One day without the constant reminder that the only the thing she had ever wanted more than she wanted to go to the Olympics was dangling teasingly just out of her reach.

She wasn't ready for this day to be over.

Sasha's expression turned sympathetic, guessing at least part of her thoughts. "How about a drink?" he suggested gently, gesturing to the row of cafés and restaurants across the road from a theatre.

She nodded her thanks, smiling as he took her hand in his and led them across to a small café on the corner. It was early enough in the afternoon that the café wasn't busy and they would probably have it to themselves for at least the next half hour until the afternoon rush began. They ordered their drinks and found a table in the corner to sit at while they waited.

It was quiet for a few moments – not quite awkward, but tense all the same. Sasha had his 'we need to talk' face on, and she could probably guess the impending topic _du jour_.

As Sasha opened his mouth to gently entice her into conversation she got in first, steering them in another direction. "You should speak Romanian more," she told him. He blinked at her, frowning at her unexpected conversation starter.

"I never hear you using it around the gym," she said, attempting to explain where the random thought had come from. "It didn't even occur to me that you could speak Romanian until we found you there."

He shrugged his shoulders. "I wouldn't really have anyone to talk to if I did," he answered vaguely.

She shook her head, not accepting that as an adequate answer. He tried again, reaching for her hand across the table and lightly stroking her skin with his thumb. "There wasn't anyone I wanted to talk to," he explained, his gaze meeting hers meaningfully to emphasize his deliberate choice of words. "Speaking Romania . . . it always seemed too intimate for casual use."

There was an implication behind his words – it was too personal for casual conversation but not too personal to use with her – that warmed her heart. His language, his childhood, his homeland – these were all things that he _wanted_ to share with her in spite of his guarded nature. It was only right that she return the favour. That she share something in return

"I'm sorry about talking to your mum without you, Pay," he said, perhaps sensing that she was ready to broach things now when she hadn't been earlier. "You know we were both just trying to look out for you," he added, both explaining and excusing the iniquitous behaviour.

"I know," she said, grimacing slightly at the reminder. She understood the motives, but it was a bad habit of Sasha's (and her mother's) that needed to be dealt to. "I know you mean well, but . . . if we're going to . . . if this . . ." she trailed off, struggling to find a word to describe what was happening between them. Nothing seemed to fit, and it seemed wrong to try and put a label on something that was still very much in early days.

"If we're going to have this _thing,_" she said, finally settling on being completely vague, "then you need to talk to me. Not my mom."

He looked genuinely contrite at her rebuke, so she threw him a bone. "Don't do it again," she commanded seriously.

He laughed lightly, gently squeezing her hand. "I promise, _dragă,"_ he said, his choice of words clearly intentional. It was a pleasant reminder of the _thing_ – as poorly defined as it was – that was building between them. It was nearly tangible in the easy silence that lay between them

"You know you can talk to me about anything, _dragă_," he urged gently.

She nodded, waiting a moment as the waitress came over with their order, placing two steaming hot drinks on the table – a low fat hot chocolate for her and a very strong coffee for Sasha. "I just . . . it's such a mess," she said, looking into her hot chocolate. "Things were just getting back to normal and Lauren had to go and mess it all up.

"Typical Lauren," she muttered with a bitter laugh. "I know I should be happy that she came forward on her own – that she actually wanted to tell me – but all I can think about is how she's ruined everything. It's like everything I did to keep things together was for nothing."

She risked a glance in his direction, expecting to see disappointment in his expression, but he just continued gaze at her gently with eyes full of understanding and unconditional regard.

"It was so awful," she continued, her expression falling in response to his acceptance. "Even though I already knew, just to hear her say it and try to _justify_ what she did to me . . . to us . . . it's like I didn't even matter to her," she said soberly.

She swallowed thickly, trying to regain control over her emotions. Sasha shifted closer, his arm around her shoulder drawing her towards his chest so that she could lean upon him for support. In the back of her mind she was glad that they'd chosen a table in the corner, just slightly out of sight of anyone milling around inside or outside of the café.

He didn't say anything and simply waited for her to calm enough to continue. She felt so completely betrayed by Lauren. And yet there was a part of her who felt _guilty_ for feeling that way.

"I can't even be mad at her," she said, almost bitter. "Not properly. I feel like I'm not allowed to be mad because of everything that happened. I made her pay for it and that was supposed to make it even.

"I don't know what to do," she admitted to him pitifully.

He looked at her gently. "You can be mad at Lauren, Payson," he assured her as she looked at him incredulously. "You can," he said again, "because this time it's about you, not me.

"Lauren hurt the both of us," he reminded her. "And you put her through her paces trying to fix what she did to me," he said with a small, somewhat proud smile, "but I don't think you ever let yourself be mad at her for what she did to you.

"That doesn't make you a bad person, Payson," he added, addressing the underlying sense of guilt that she hadn't spoken aloud. "In fact, it makes you a better person."

She scoffed despite how lovely the words were to hear.

"It does, _dragă_," he countered. "Not many people would be able to overlook a personal slight like that. You're allowed to be angry at people when they hurt you."

She sighed loudly, leaning further into his embrace. "It just feels so petty," she said quietly, her expression turning to a pout.

He shook his head, pulling back slightly so he could look her surely in the eye. "You are the most generous and un-spiteful person I know, Payson Keeler," he told her with a warm smile and such certainty that she almost couldn't help but believe him. "That you even feel that way is proof of it."

She smiled weakly in response, incapable of seeing his warm expression without smiling in return. "Thank you," she replied, her eyes darting away shyly. He nodded, kissing her forehead discretely before pulling away completely.

They absorbed themselves in their drinks, letting the quiet wash over them once again. It was nice – nicer than she had ever expected just sitting in silence to be. She expected to have many moments like this ahead of her, eventually becoming accustomed the unexpected ease that came with being so close to another person.

And with his hand gently resting on top of her own, his fingers brushing lightly against her skin . . . she knew that no matter how it might seem, he'd never truly be out of her reach.

~ to be continued ~

You know a post is way overdue when you have to go look up the format and you have no docs hanging around in doc manager to copy and paste into. In my defense I've been ridiculously busy with school work - it's almost non-stop assignments and I've got a group project with a partner who doesn't know the difference between a Fixed Interval and a Fixed Time schedule, which is a _very_ important difference that anyone who passed first year Psych _should_ know.

Anyways, I can make no promises as to when the next chapter will be up, but I will try to finish this. I hate not having time to write, but 'tis reality at the moment and I don't see it letting up any time soon.

* * *

><p><strong>Notes:<strong>

Payson's Floor Music: I did want to use something classical, but the problem is that the coda from Swan Lake is so damn perfect that everything else seems completely inadequate. So I just went screw it and broadened my search, and started looking to youtube for some ideas, which somehow led me to a clip from the 2011 Pole Dancing Convention. And I think the song meaning kind of suits both these characters with it being about someone who wasn't looking for love and tried to fight it and hide when it came along, but comes to accept it (at least that's how I interpret it).  
>And so with all these hints, including the title, you all know what song it is, right?<p>

**Translation:**

_dragă_: darling


	12. What I've Done

**PRICELESS ****_adj._**

**_of inestimable worth  
>so precious its value cannot be determined<em>**

Disclaimer: I do not own **Make It or Break It**.

* * *

><p>Summary: No matter what it always came back to him – to the one person who had seen her at her best and her worst and found beauty in both. Who could put a value on that? PaysonSasha

* * *

><p><strong>XII. What I've Done<strong>

Lauren really hated introspection. Most of the time she tried not to think too much (at all) about the consequences of her actions, but thanks to Payson Keeler she was now forced to sit down and take a long hard look in the mirror. And to make a list.

And at the top of that list – a list of all the people she'd hurt so badly she wondered why any of them wanted anything to do with her – wasn't Payson or Sasha. It wasn't even her dad who'd been cleaning her messes her whole life and making himself miserable just to keep her happy. Right there at the top of her list as the person who'd gotten the shittiest deal out of all the crap that she'd pulled over the years . . . was Lauren Tanner.

The person she had hurt the most in all this was her. She'd lost so much, and there was nobody to blame for it but her sorry self. She'd ruined friendships and relationships. She made people regret whatever olive branch they offered to her and made them think twice about trusting her the next time.

People didn't leave her. She pushed them away. I

t had been her all along.

She needed to be a better person. She needed to make up for the things that she'd done.

It was more than just sending the video to the NGO. It was everything. All the shit that she'd ever tried to pull.

"Kaylie," she said weakly, stopping her friend before she headed in for practice.

"What is it, Lo?" Kaylie replied as she stopped and turned around, her expression full of concern.

Lauren grimaced momentarily, steeling herself for what needed to be said. "I just wanted to say that I'm sorry for what happened with Carter," she said sincerely. "For sleeping with him and trying to steal him from you after.

"But mostly I'm sorry for not telling you sooner," she said, eyes dropping momentarily in shame. "And not just before Carter told you first. I let you stay with a guy that I _knew_ had cheated – what kind of crappy best friend does that?" she asked dramatically.

"I . . . Thank you, Lo," Kaylie replied, not sure what she could do beyond accepting the apology. It wasn't something she needed to hear, having already forgiven Lauren long ago for everything that had happened with Carter, but it was nice to know that Lauren had thought about her and seemed genuinely sorry for what happened, not just for the fact that she'd be caught.

"I'm sorry too," she added, because it seemed only right. "For blaming everything on you when it was Carter's fault as much as yours."

"Way more his fault," Lauren rebutted, because she was still Lauren Tanner at the end of the day. "He knowingly cheated on his girlfriend. You told me you guys weren't anything."

"Don't push it, Lo," Kaylie warned, a laugh bubbling out of her almost in spite of herself. She felt strangely lighter for Lauren's apology, and wondered if maybe there had been a part of her that was still holding a grudge against Lauren – something in her waiting to hear those very words.

"We're okay, right?" Lauren asked once the laughter had died down, looking oddly shy and very unlike herself.

"We're okay," Kaylie assured.

"Good," Lauren nodded, her breath leaving her with a relieved sigh. "I know there's a whole bunch of other shit I've done, but that was the one that seemed the most important," she added, "so can we just have a blanket apology for the rest of it rather than having to rehash _every _horrible thing I've ever done to you?"

"Yeah," Kaylie agreed, laughing more easily this time. "I think there's even a few of my own owed." Lauren nodded, but chose not to mention anything specific.

"I'm glad you're my friend, Kaylie," she said sincerely, reaching out to embrace Kaylie. "I wouldn't be able to do any of this without you."

"Me too," Kaylie replied as they hugged.

They walked into the gym together, not all that surprised to see Payson and Sasha already busy on the floor. Surprisingly, though, it was Kaylie that commented on their mutual appearance after a day's absence and not Lauren.

"Guess that explains where Sasha was yesterday," Kaylie said, implicitly noting their friend's brand new floor routine.

Lauren kept her comments to herself, making a genuine effort not to be the old Lauren. The old Lauren would have been suspicious and jealous and wondered why Payson was getting special treatment and coming up with all kinds of ways to sabotage her teammate in order to secure her own place on the team. It was the kind of thinking that sabotaged both herself and the team as a whole – she'd never by the gymnast that Payson was on floor and all this scheming was just wasting time that she could have devoted to the events she _could_ best her on. The US needed some big scores on beam and bars if they were going to beat China this time, and Lauren could definitely help in the beam department.

"I need to talk to Sasha," she said, separating from Kaylie and making her way to edge of the floor where Sasha was watching Payson run through her routine.

She wanted to ask about how long they'd been working on it, what plans they had for upgrades, what the eventual DOD would be, but instead she just stood by quietly waiting for Sasha to be ready to speak with her. She watched as Payson went through the routine, consisting mostly of dance elements at the moment that would be slowly stripped away as they incorporated more acrobatics to match the paunchy beat behind her.

"That was great, Pay!" she applauded as Payson finished, feet crossed at the ankles and body bowed at the waist.

Payson cast a glance up towards her and then turned her attention entirely to Sasha, giving Lauren a pointed cold shoulder.

"Go work on your dismount with Tara in the pit," he suggested and Payson complied with only a slight question in her eyes.

Left with Lauren, he turned towards her, eying her unsurely as he tried to gauge the possible topic of conversation and how long things might take. Lauren smiled weakly, looking uncharacteristically thoughtful.

"What can I help you with, Lauren?" he asked, gesturing for her to head towards his office so that she could have some privacy.

Lauren shook her head quickly. No way did she want to take this up to the office where she might run into Summer and Payson's mom. Sasha led her instead to an empty part of the gym. It would afford them little privacy, but at least there were few people close enough to eavesdrop.

"I worked out what I need to do to fix things," Lauren said after shifting uncomfortably for a few moments.

"Fix what?" he asked with a confused frown.

Lauren gave a sigh of exasperation, as though he really ought to have known. It was actually a little relieving for Sasha, as it saw her shifting back to her more typical self rather than the atypically nervous girl looking for the right words. "Fix what I did to everyone," she said, her tone condescending. She dropped to a more reserved voice as she continued, her words sincere. "I need to make it up to everyone here at the gym – for making them lose a coach – and I thought about it and I worked out how to fix it."

He nodded, gesturing for her to continue. Again she gave him a look like he was being particularly obstinate for not working it out for himself.

"Sasha, I think you need to work with other gymnasts," Lauren told him, sounding almost sympathetic.

Reasonably, he looked even more confused. Because it sounded oddly like Lauren was breaking up with him. Even her expression seemed to say _'it's not you, it's me'_ in that half-condescending, half-commiserating way.

She continued, carrying on with yet another exasperated sigh. "I'd like to work with Tara and Jake for the next few weeks so that the other gymnasts can get more of your time," she said, making it as clear to him as possible. This was her fixing things – giving the time that he would normally spend with her to others in order to make up for the time she had taken away from them.

"That's very generous of you, Lauren," he told her. "But I think we should talk to your father before we make any big changes to your training schedule."

Lauren was already one step ahead of him. "I already talked to daddy," she replied, shaking her head at him. This time she'd been sure to think things through – she needed them to see that she was not only willing to be held accountable for her actions, but that she was willing to put the needs of others before her own. "I mean, he wasn't exactly happy but I explained it to him and he's not going to get all mad and try to get you fired again."

Sasha snorted. How oddly reassuring?

"Thank you, Lauren," Sasha said, surprised that she had genuinely given so much thought towards the idea. He felt a surge of fatherly pride and pulled her into a quick hug, happy to see even a glimpse of the person he thought she could be.

Lauren nodded once more, signalling that she was done with the conversation. "I'll let you get back to Payson," she said with just the slightest suggestive hint. Because even though she was trying to be a better person, that didn't mean that she had to be a completely different person.

"I'll send Tara out to work with you on vault," he said before heading off to the annex.

Lauren smiled to herself as he left. It was really only a small favour, but it was a start. And hopefully it would show Payson that she really meant it this time. That she wasn't just sorry that she'd been found out.

And maybe after that she could have her friend back.

* * *

><p>Payson showed remarkable restraint upon Sasha's return, not uttering even a word in reference to his conversation with Lauren. Instead she focused on trying to convince him to add a piked double Arabian to floor routine.<p>

As such, he was the one to bring it up, knowing that it was something she ought to know. "I won't be working with Lauren for the next few weeks," he said, realizing immediately that he wasn't explaining it properly. "It was Lauren's idea," he added upon seeing her confused and slightly distraught expression – evidence that she was as good as he said she was. "She'd like me to spend the time I would normally spend coaching her with the other gymnasts so she can make things up to them."

"Wow," Payson uttered, sounding ever so slightly impressed. "Mr. Tanner's not going to like it."

He smiled back at her. "My thoughts exactly," he replied with laugh. "Apparently my job is safe," he assured.

She shook her head, the idea slowly sinking in. "I can't believe . . . she's really doing it," she said, her voice quiet and amazed. "She's trying to fix things."

"That's what she said," he confirmed.

"Good," she said, nodding to herself. There was a small, fleeting smile flickering at her lips before her unfailing focus returned to her dismount. He could practically see some of that anger leaving her, physically evidenced by the extra height in her tumbling.

He could deny her nothing when she smiled like that. Dismounts included.

* * *

><p>"I've been thinking," Kim said as she set two plates on the table. Mark and Becca were both out for the evening (as requested) giving Kim the change to talk to Payson alone.<p>

Payson looked up, giving her mother a dubious look. "Should I be worried?" she asked.

"Har-har," Kim laughed sarcastically. "I've been thinking about Emily," she said looking at Payson meaningfully.

"What about Emily?" Payson asked in return, clearly confused.

"I was just thinking about how nice it was to have Emily around," Kim shrugged, brushing it off as casual conversation. "It was nice for you to have someone you could talk to – another person in your corner."

"I've got Sasha," Payson replied, words slipping out before she could really think about them. Kim understood though, or thought she did. It only meant that Sasha was in her corner; an innocent statement of fact as far as Kim was concerned.

"But it's not really the same," Kim argued. "It just seems sometimes like there isn't anyone your own age who you can turn to around here," she said, tone tinged with the slightest sadness.

Payson shook her head, protesting the implication that she was somehow lonely just because she wasn't constantly on the phone to her girlfriends. "There's Kaylie. And things will work out with Lauren.

"They always do," she added almost bitterly. She shook her head again, this time to clear it of unwanted thoughts. "I'm not alone, Mom."

Kim frowned, pausing a beat to better put her thoughts into words. "That's not what I'm saying, sweetheart," she said gently. "I just . . . I know how close Lauren and Kaylie are. And Kaylie can't be there for both of you right now.

"No man is an island, Pay," she said tritely. "And there are some things you just can't talk about with your Mom or your coach."

"And you think that means I should call Emily?" Payson queried, narrowing her eyes as she cautioned a guess at what her mother was hinting at.

Kim nodded. "Or maybe Heather. I know you've kept in contact with her, but maybe you girls could meet for lunch sometime."

"Fine," Payson agreed, not wanting to protest it. Heather had been a good friend – someone who she could talk to about things that weren't gymnastics – and she kind of missed that sort of normality.

They settled into silence, both absorbed in their meals until both of their plates were clean.

"I really do think you should call Emily," Kim put in, one last word on the conversation before she dropped it completely. "You need someone who understands what you're going through. Both as a gymnast and as a young woman."

Payson grimaced. "I don't know," she sighed. "We weren't exactly on the best terms before Emily left," she reminded her mother.

"All the more reason for you to call her," Kim assured. "I have Chloe's number in Las Vegas if you're interested," she wheedled, smiling hopefully.

With a long suffering sigh Payson held out her hand. Kim returned the gesture by placing the cordless phone in her hand. "It's programmed in number nine," Kim offered with warm smile.

Eyes narrowed, Payson gave her mother another incredulous look. "How long have you been planning this?"

"Not long," Kim waved off. "I'll give you some privacy," she added as she left the room and headed back to the kitchen.

And so Payson was left alone in the dinning room with the phone in her hand, needing a few minutes to prepare herself before she made the call. It had been nearly two months since Emily left (she'd be about four months pregnant by now) and Payson wasn't sure that Emily would even want to hear from her after their last conversation.

She took a deep breath and put the speed dial code in and pressed the call button.

It picked up after one ring.

_"Hello?"_ answered an unfamiliar male voice, one that sounded too old to be either Damon or Brian.

"Uh . . . hi. Can I speak to Emily?" she asked tentatively. He gave an unintelligible grunt in reply.

_"Who is it?"_ she heard Chloe Kmetko ask in the background.

"_Someone asking for Emily,"_ the male responded.

_"Did they have a name?"_ Chloe asked.

"It's Payson. Payson Keeler," she answered before the man could repeat Chloe's question. He repeated her answer word for word, eliciting a happy cheer from Chloe.

_"I'll just go get her for you,"_ Chloe called happily.

There were a few moment silence, then some shuffling as the phone changed hands and then:

_"Payson?"_

Her breath left her all at once, leaving her slightly dizzy and needing a moment before she could answer. "Yeah, it's . . . Hi, Em," she managed, her voice sounding weak. She looked around her, hoping that something in her line of sight might cue her on the right thing to say. "I didn't think you were gonna want to talk to me," she admitted when nothing was forthcoming.

_"Are you disappointed?"_ Emily asked uncertainly.

Payson shrugged, although the gesture was redundant. "I guess I just wasn't really prepared for you picking up," she answered. "I thought you might still be mad at me."

_"I'm not mad,"_ Emily answered quietly. _"I've missed you guys. You were all amazing at Worlds."_

Payson smiled sadly. _'You should have been there,'_ she thought to herself, but she knew better than to rub salt into that wound. She didn't understand how anyone could just walk away form their dream like that, especially when they actually had a choice in the matter, but it was too late to try and change that.

"How's Vegas?" she said instead. "Your mom said you were going to your godmother's."

_"It's a lot hotter than Boulder,"_ Emily replied with a laugh. _"It took a while to get settled in, but it kind of grows on you. Mom and Brian are down here, and Damon's back-and-forth between here and LA trying to finish his album before the baby comes._

_"It's a little hectic, but it's nice,"_ she finished, sounding tired but happy.

"I'm glad everything worked out," Payson replied, her feelings mixed.

She heard Emily make a small noise on the other end before speaking again. _"Payson, I . . . I know to you it seems like I've made some huge mistake and . . . it probably doesn't make a lot of sense,"_ she said patiently, sounding so much older than Payson remembered. "_Yeah, I'm probably gonna regret it when I see you guys wearing your gold medals at the Olympics, but I think I would have regretted it more if I hadn't given my baby a chance._

_"I mean, what if my daughter was the next Payson Keeler? Or destined to cure cancer?"_ she asked in a brighter tone. _"And I just . . . erased her so I could pursue this miniscule chance of making the Olympic team. I just couldn't do it."_

"You're right," Payson said with a sigh. "I don't understand, but I get that you did what you needed to do. I guess I'm just a lot more selfish than you are."

Emily laughed. _"You just haven't found anything you love enough to be unselfish for,"_ she countered.

Payson found her thoughts immediately turning to Sasha at Emily's words. Though she couldn't be certain, not until it was tested, she thought Sasha might be it – the one thing she loved enough to be completely unselfish.

_"And seriously, you're eighteen," _Emily continued, bringing Payson back from where her thoughts had taken her._ "You're allowed to be a little selfish at eighteen._

_"Especially when you're the _World Champion," she added warmly, genuinely pleased and completely without jealousy.

It was so like Emily. Other gymnasts would congratulate her for the win, but with an underlying spite or a casual warning that she should take advantage of it while it lasted. Not Emily. With Emily they had always been teammates first, competitors second. It made Payson happy. She hadn't realized how much she'd missed Emily's support at The Rock and how much she needed a friend like that.

They continued talking for nearly an hour, Payson mostly catching Emily up on everything that had been happening since she'd left and Emily letting her know how things were in Vegas.

_"So it was Lauren the whole time?"_ Emily asked when Payson told her about the videotape scandal. _"I can't believe she actually came clean on the whole thing."_

"I guess she's changed," Payson shrugged. She sighed and continued. "I want to believe that she's really trying this time, but . . ."

_"Once bitten, twice shy,"_ Emily finished for her. _"You know I'll never be Lauren's biggest fan, but you have to give her credit for telling you. I think she really is sorry."_

"I hope so," Payson agreed. "I want Lauren to do better. She shouldn't have to scheme for the things she wants."

_"And break the habit of a lifetime?"_ Emily asked with a scoff. _"I don't think Lauren knows how."_

"She's trying," Payson offered, shrugging to herself. "She's voluntarily giving up her time with Sasha. It's a start."

_"It is,"_ Emily said.

A pensive silence reigned for a few moments before Payson abruptly changed the topic to something more carefree.

"So, have you got any names picked?"

She could hear the smile in Emily's reply. _"A few,"_ she grinned. "_Damon wanted to call the baby 'Nirvana', but I absolutely vetoed that option._

_"I was thinking something like 'Violet' or maybe 'Nadia'?"_ she said.

"Nadia Kmetko-Young," Payson mused. "It's a good name."

They said goodbye shortly after with promises to stay in touch, their reconciliation doing a world of good for both parties. Especially Payson.

It was nice to have somebody on her side again.

~ to be continued ~

So I'm going to start by saying that I really did not mean to leave it this long between updates. I think my problem at the moment seems to be not writers block specifically, but failure to commit to just one story (oh if you could see how many initial chapters I have on my computer you would be quite amazed). Although for some reason this chapter and the following one just didn't want to be written. And while I've got a clearer idea of where I want this story to go, that really seems to be no guarantee.

Hopefully I'll have better luck with chapter 14 and it won't be too long until the next update.

* * *

><p><strong>Notes: <strong>

Yeah I brought Emily back, well via phonecall. And mostly because, Kaylie and Lauren will always have each other and Payson needs someone else in her corner. It can't really be Sasha because he's all the girls' coaches, and Heather doesn't really have much involvement in the gym. At the end of the day, it kind of has to be Emily because she's only one who really knows what it's like in the gym, and she can know that from Vegas as well as she can from Boulder.


	13. She Will Be Loved

**PRICELESS ****_adj._**

**_of inestimable worth  
>so precious its value cannot be determined<em>**

Disclaimer: I do not own **Make It or Break It**.

* * *

><p>Summary: No matter what it always came back to him – to the one person who had seen her at her best and her worst and found beauty in both. Who could put a value on that? PaysonSasha

* * *

><p><strong>XIII. She Will Be Loved<strong>

_The Rock – Late November_

The period of time between World and Christmas was typically thought of as a bit of downtime in most gyms, and so the two and a half weeks of Lauren's penance passed quickly and without incident. There were no great leaps or bounds achieved as a result – even down one elite, Sasha's time was spread thinly across a large number of gymnasts – and Lauren certainly hadn't suffered by his absence as both Tara and Jake were great coaches in their own right.

The only tangible benefit as far as Lauren could tell was the sense of accomplishment she felt in knowing she'd done something for someone else with no reciprocal benefit to herself.

She'd fixed what she had taken from the other gymnasts as best she could. It was her fault that Sasha left – she'd pretty much done everything short of kissing him herself in order to drive him away from Summer – and so she gave up the coaching time that was rightfully hers in order to make up for what she'd done. It was like retribution – an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth. But that was only step one.

There were so many people she'd hurt in her actions, a long list of them in fact. At the start of the list were the other gymnasts, all of them coach-less for the two and a half weeks between Sasha's leaving and her dad bringing in Darby as his replacement (which she could see now wasn't really her dad's best decision making). Next up of those caught in the fallout of her worst mistake was Mrs Keeler.

Hurting Payson's mom was completely unintentional. The video was only really meant to hurt Sasha (and admittedly Payson to a lesser degree). Mostly it was just supposed to break up Summer and Sasha, so in that respect it had been a total success (not that she'd ever say that aloud). It hadn't really occurred to her at the time that Ellen Beals would show up at the parents meeting like she did, completely undermining Mrs Keeler and her campaign for head of the parents board, which had only ever been about securing Sasha's position at The Rock.

Lauren understood enough about gym politics to realize the harm she'd done there. Before Sasha left Mrs Keeler was pretty well-respected amongst the other gym parents. And this was still mostly true, especially after the truth had come out about the video and what had really happened, but there were those nasty parents lingering around questioning whether Mrs Keeler could be trusted to run the gym when she couldn't control her own daughter. In other words, Chelsea Warner's parents, who most people ignored anyway.

But there were still the occasional whispers and Lauren knew something had to be done about that. In fact, she had a pretty good idea of how she could right the universe in that respect.

Step two began at noon. She waited until their lunch break, making sure that Mrs Keeler was completely alone in the office before she made her move. Summer would only interfere if she was around and try to take over. This was her project – her apology – and the less that Summer was involved, the better.

She knocked on doorframe, waiting politely just outside on the platform as she waited for an invitation. Mrs Keeler looked up and smiled kindly upon seeing her.

"What can I help you, Lauren?" she asked warmly.

It gave Lauren a moment's pause. For some reason she'd been expected to be treated with cool politeness, which seemed kind of a silly thought in hindsight. Mrs Keeler was the kind of person who had a warm smile for everyone, even the girl who basically humiliated her daughter and ran one of her closest friends out of the country. It was one thing she'd always kind of admired about Payson's mom.

At Mrs Keeler's warm greeting she mentally trashed her former plan of action – it seemed kind of unnecessary now that she was. It wasn't like she needed to put on a big show about how it was for the greater good, practically bully Mrs Keeler into submission, and make it impossible to refuse. Those were the trademarks of the old Lauren – the Lauren who had ruined everything because she wanted to matter – and new Lauren was going to find her own way.

She bit her lip, feeling slightly uncertain as she responded. "Um . . . I just wanted to talk to you about the Christmas party."

"You and everyone else," Mrs Keeler responded with a tired groan, hand going to her temple to massage an oncoming tension headache. "I'll let you know as soon as soon as I know myself," she promised almost half-heartedly.

Lauren couldn't help but be hopeful at Mrs Keeler's answer, old Lauren recognizing that she couldn't have come at a better time. Taking a quick breath to settle any lingering nerves Lauren took one step, and then another into the office until she found herself standing in front of Mrs Keeler's desk. "Actually," she began, "I just wanted to ask . . . well, if you needed any help?"

She smiled in what she hoped was an endearing way as she watched Mrs Keeler's eyes widen with surprise. Understanding followed and Mrs Keeler sent her another warm smile.

"Thank you, Lauren," she said. "I'd really appreciate that."

Lauren breathed a sigh of relief. Eagerly, she took the seat opposite Mrs Keeler and pulled a notebook out of her handbag. Her dad always said there was no time at the present (usually in reference to her homework). She wanted to get started before Mrs Keeler had the chance to change her mind and she'd come more than prepared just in case Mrs Keeler needed some convincing.

"Have you got a venue?" she asked in an abrupt tone, flipping to the first page. "I've got some options – depending on the budget. These are the dates they're available."

She flipped the notebook around so Mrs Keeler could see for herself.

Mrs Keeler's flicked briefly down to the page before looking back at Lauren. "I'm very impressed, Lauren," she said genuinely.

"It's nothing," Lauren said, waving her hand dismissively.

Mrs Keeler shook her head, reaching her hand out to lay it over Lauren's. "It's a good start."

Lauren smiled shyly, a part of her hoping that Mrs Keeler wasn't just talking about the Christmas Party. She knew there were a lot of people that she'd hurt over the last few months, and whatever small steps she'd achieved so far were only the beginning of righting her wrongs.

After talking through possible plans for the Christmas Party over lunch and putting Mrs Keeler in touch with all the right people, Lauren left the office with a spring in her step. The Christmas Party was going to be completely awesome, and Lauren was feeling proud of the role she had to play in it.

She met Summer at the bottom of the steps on her way back to practice, her almost-step-mother giving her a dubious look as she approached.

"What were you doing in the gym office?" Summer asked, her tone holding far more suspicion than Lauren would have liked. "Were you looking for me?" she added, clearly a last-dash attempt to soften her words.

Lauren brushed off the hurt with a shrug of her shoulders, not letting in fuel her into lashing out. Her relationship with Summer had been strained for a while now, since before the video, but it hadn't definitely gotten worse lately. Ever since the pre-Worlds party, there'd been a measure of distrust to everything Summer said, as though she were waiting for her to make another mistake.

Another broken relationship she needed to fix among the many other things she'd ruined in her quest to be the best in everything.

But nothing was unfixable. Or at least she hoped not. And if Kaylie could forgive her after the whole Carter debacle and outing her to her dad, and if Sasha could forgive her for getting him fired and nearly destroying his career, then surely Summer would be able to forgive her for this omission of truth. I mean, didn't they teach that sort of thing in Bible study?

Lauren put on a smile and readied herself for step three: repairing her relationship with Summer. "I was just giving Mrs Keeler some suggestions for the Christmas Party," she said brightly, eager to spread the news of how she was saving Christmas.

Summer frowned at her. "Lauren," she said, her voice plaintive, "you shouldn't interfe-"

"Mrs Keeler was totally cool with it," Lauren cut in, stopping Summer before she went and put a downer on her good mood. "She said I was really helpful and stuff."

"Alright," Summer replied, looking kind of unconvinced about how cool Mrs K had been about her help. "Just don't push too much," she cautioned. "Kim has shown a lot of understanding these past few weeks."

Lauren understood the implication, her stomach twisting a little at the reminder. "I know," she said casually, keeping her tone bright to mask the pain. She forced a smile and a change of subject. "Anyway, do you want to come Christmas shopping with me?" she suggested in an overly-bright tone. "I need help choosing a gift for Nan."

Another frown and Lauren stopped being surprised at Summer's attempts to keep her distance. "Never mind," she said, dismissing the suggestion before Summer could reject it. "I mean, Kaylie's better at these things anyway.

"I'll see you later," she said, raising her hand in an awkward wave and turning to face the gym. Only then did she let her expression drop, false smile fading to a pained grimace.

_'Nothing is unfixable,'_ she reminded herself, eyes unfocused as they drifted across the gym. Unconsciously, her gaze zoned in on Payson and she really hoped it was true.

* * *

><p><em>Keeler Residence – Later<em>

Kim Keeler was the last to arrive home that Friday evening, a somewhat unusual occurrence for the Keeler household. A typical Friday usually saw Mark staying late at work (an old colleague from IBM had started a HR consultancy firm and with just the two of them to start with, the workload was a lot to get used to) and Payson doing the same at The Rock, while Becca started her weekend as soon as possible with a trip to the mall with Lily and Sara.

Tonight, Kim found her whole family in attendance when she arrived. Payson was on the phone with Emily, something that Kim was pleased to see become part of Payson's weekly routine. Becca was in the lounge using the coffee table as a bench as she multi-tasked between watching MTV (Kim quietly lamented her youngest child's _Jersey Shore_ addiction) and typing up her school assignment on Mark's old laptop. Mark was busy in the kitchen and wearing a ridiculous apron with a Charlie Sheen reference she pretended to be oblivious to.

"Why don't I smell burning?" she teased as she came into the kitchen, stopping to kiss her husband's cheek before putting her bags out of the way.

"I had some help," Mark replied with a grin.

"And by some he means _a lot_," she heard Becca call from the living room.

"And by a lot I mean that Payson did all the work and just asked me to watch to make sure nothing boiled over while she talked to Emily," Mark concluded, not the least ashamed. "I made a salad," he added, gesturing to a messy bowl of lettuce, tomatoes, and bean sprouts seasoned with salt and pepper.

Kim smiled gently. "Thank you for helping Payson with dinner," she said sincerely, pressing another kiss to his cheek. Mark returned her smile and leaned towards her for a proper greeting.

"Ew," Becca pronounced from the doorway, cutting in before Mark could make any progress. "Payson said it should be ready in about five minutes."

"You gonna help me set the table, kiddo?" Mark asked, waving her into the kitchen. Becca sighed in a put upon way but followed Mark to the kitchen cabinets to get what was needed.

Kim laughed to herself, enjoying the combination of Mark's teasing and Becca's flair for the dramatic. She moved towards the oven while the other two were occupied, curious to see what was generating such a lovely aroma in her kitchen. "I'll just check – "

"No you won't," Payson said, her tone firm as she appeared in the doorway as suddenly as Becca had moments before. "Sit, Mom. Dinner's all sorted," she assured.

Kim pouted but did as she was told, settling at the table as Mark brought over a glass of red wine and Becca put out the good place settings. "What's the occasion?" she asked curiously.

Becca grinned as she replied, "Dad not cooking.

"Plus, Payson made peppers," she continued, eyes bright with anticipation.

_"Ardei Umpluţ,"_ Payson corrected as she brought the ceramic pot to the table. The words sounded practiced and precise, Payson clearly having spent as much time learning them as she had preparing the dish.

Kim tried to repeat the words, her pronunciation not nearly as polished as Payson.

"I asked Sasha," Payson explained, answering her implied question.

For a moment Kim chastised herself for being so oblivious. Payson's behaviour - dancing around the living room, smiling dreamily to herself when no one was looking, preparing special dinners for her coach – had given every indication that she was harbouring a crush, but Kim had been so busy trying to keep her head above the drama to realize what and, more importantly, who that meant. She should have realized long before the incident itself that Payson had feelings for Sasha, but instead she'd been caught up with Summer's pining and Steve Tanner and Ellen Beal's scheming and just generally trying to keep ahead of the bill collectors.

_'Maybe it's a good thing I didn't get made Head of the Parents Board,'_ she thought to herself, wondering what else she might have missed if she'd found herself a central figure amongst The Rock's near constant drama.

"You know, Lauren came to talk to me today," she said, her train of thought triggering the sudden topic of conversation.

Payson, who was busy serving two large peppers to each plate, turned her head to give a befuddled look. "What about?"

Kim understood the confusion, Lauren's appearance that afternoon having had the same effect on her at the time. "She asked to help out with the Christmas party," she explained. "She even came prepared with a list of venues that are still available and willing to extend the Tanner-family discount to The Rock."

"That's great," Mark interjected.

Kim nodded her agreement. "Honestly, organizing everything like this was driving me crazy and just the extra pair of hands is a godsend," she commented. She turned her attention back to Payson. "She's really trying this time, Pay," she said gently, reaching a hand over to squeeze Payson's.

"I know," Payson said with a stoic nod, although clearly looking unsettled by something.

Kim shifted towards her as Payson suddenly stood up straight and seemed to shake herself out of whatever had come over her. "I just remembered," she said quickly, her eyes flicking to the wall clock above the bench. "I promised Sasha I'd help him with some evals."

Mark nodded and Kim followed suit, despite the odd feeling telling her she was missing something.

"Geez, Pay. It's Friday," Becca complained with a roll of her eyes. "Don't you ever take time off?"

"This is time off," Payson told her. "It's paperwork, not training."

"It's still going back to the place you just left after _twelve hours _of pain and suffering to go hang out with the person who put you through it all," Becca countered. Her tone was rife with what was thought of amongst the Keelers as Becca's 'my-sister-is-an-insane-gymnastics-robot' voice, which Payson was more or less immune to these days.

"Take some dinner with you," Kim insisted, getting in before Becca could continue her dramatic tirade. Payson nodded, going to the kitchen to find some Tupperware containers and then setting aside enough peppers and rice for two people.

"I'll be an hour, two hours tops," Payson promised as she headed to the door, grabbing her car keys on the way. Kim nodded and tried not to be too concerned about where Payson was going – her daughter was eighteen, after all, and Sasha could be trusted to keep her safe.

"This is good," Mark said a moment after she left. As Kim gave him a confused frown, he added, "Payson working at The Rock.

"I was worried about what Payson would do after all this was over," he continued, waving his hand in vague gesture that indicated gymnastics, the Olympics, and all that was entailed in Payson's not-too-distant future. "But she'll still have The Rock," he said warmly. "Looks like Sasha's already grooming her to take over when he goes."

It didn't quite settle her worries the way that it did Mark's. Her own concerns still pricked away at her, although they were too intangible for her to address. There was something . . . no, not wrong just . . . something not quite . . . just _not quite_, although she couldn't begin to say what it was and how it ought to be fixed.

But she kept those concerns, as vague and uncertain as they were, to herself and responded with a non-committal, "It looks that way," to Mark's conclusion.

Then again, looks can be deceiving.

* * *

><p><em>The Rock <em>

There was not one, but two motorcycles parked outside of The Rock when Payson pulled her Lexus RX into The Rock parking lot. Austin was still in, obviously, but she hoped the fact that Friday night was "Date Night" meant that he wouldn't be staying too long.

The thought occurred to her that maybe it wasn't such a good idea showing up like this. It was clear from her choice of attire and lack of gym bag that she wasn't here to train, and her excuse about helping Sasha do the evaluations probably wouldn't fly with Austin who was way too intuitive for his own good sometimes. He'd want to know why she was here, and that was question she couldn't answer satisfactorily to herself.

_'So much for keeping this under the radar,'_ she thought, noting the risk but going ahead anyway. She pushed through the doors doing her best to give the impression that there was nothing out of the ordinary about her showing up after practice with no intention of training. She looked for Austin, but the gym seemed to be completely empty, just the dim overhead lights and those from Sasha's office giving any indication that this wasn't the case.

She made her way up the stairs, her footsteps light and going unnoticed by Sasha who was bent over one of the desks with his back to her. His shoulders were hunched, tense, and his hair stuck up at odd angles from his hands running through it one too many times.

Calling his name softly she made her way to his side, brushing her hand across his shoulder to try and ease some of the tension that was clearly residing there. He turned his head to see her, his expression both pleased and surprised. At least until he saw her worried appearance.

"What's wrong?" he asked as one of his hands moved to encircle her waist.

Payson shook her head, reaching to fix the mess he'd made of his hair. "You first," she said as her fingers brushed against his temple.

He sighed heavily and wiped a hand across his face. "Just scheduling issues," he said, pointing the pages spread across the desk. All were marked with different colours indicating who was free when and where. "A couple of the lower classes just seemed to double in numbers overnight," he said, explaining why it was causing him trouble. "I'm trying to tell myself that it's a good thing, but I don't know how I'm going to be able fit everyone in without asking Tara or Jake to work Sundays."

Payson nodded, continuing to run her hand through his hair. It seemed to be helping, his shoulders lifting a little with each passing moment. "Seems you could do with another coach," she noted, keeping her voice soft and unassuming.

"I could," he agreed, "but the numbers aren't enough to justify bringing another person in. Especially when we could easily manage it between the three of us."

He gave another heavy sigh, his shoulders heaving and the tension returning. All her hard work out the window.

"I could help," she suggested. "You could combine two of the classes and we could do them together."

"Payson," he began, ready with a long list of reasons why that wasn't a good idea.

"One hour on Sunday morning isn't going to disrupt my training," she told him with a dry look. "And we usually finish all classes before June anyway.

"It'll be great experience for me and it'll keep parents from complaining about you not giving their children your personal attention."

"They do seem to love you," he commented, aware of how enamoured the non-elite parents were with Payson. Knowing their little darlings would be spending time with Payson Keeler would more than make up for the fact that he'd be sharing the class.

She could see him wavering and went in for the kill. "Please, Sasha?" she asked with wide eyes and pouting lips, lowering her head towards him.

He smiled softly, his free hand moving to capture her chin. "_Orice, dragă,"_ he told her, kissing her chastely a moment later and bestowing her with what had quickly become her favourite smile – the one she thought of as being for her alone.

"Is that a yes?" she asked eagerly.

"Yes," he agreed, getting his own favourite smile in return. It was a bright, wide smile that seemed almost the antithesis of his normally stoic and serious gymnast, but one he loved to see on her face.

"Now, what about you?" he asked, a part of him loathe to bring up her reasons for coming here after seeing her so happy.

"Let's eat dinner first," she said waving off her concern as she gestured to the forgotten Tupperware containers she'd placed on the edge of the desk when she came in. "And don't say you've already eaten. Cereal does not count as dinner," she added firmly, giving him a knowing look.

"Yes, dear," he responded dutifully before getting up to find some utensils and pull over another chair. "This smells amazing, Payson," he complimented as he snapped open the containers. She beamed back at him.

They ate in a comfortable silence, enjoying the quiet and easiness that they rarely got to share with one another. Once they were done Payson gathered up the containers, trying to buy herself a few more pleasant moments before she talked about what had brought her to the gym.

"Where's Austin, by the way?" she said, glancing around a second time for the current Men's World and Olympic Champion.

Sasha frowned, his head tilting to the side. "Austin?"

"I saw Lolita outside," Payson answered.

Sasha shrugged to himself, not too concerned about Austin's whereabouts or what his bike was doing at the gym. "He left with Kaylie around five," he noted. "They probably just took her car."

He didn't say anything more, leaving the lull in conversation for her to fill. Sighing to herself, Payson began. "Mom was telling me about Lauren helping her find a venue for the Christmas party," she said, grimacing as she tried to catalogue the feelings that had instilled in her.

"I don't know why that . . . it just seems like this huge thing," she continued, knowing she wasn't explaining it properly. "Her taking a break like she did, that was a start. But it was obvious, right?"

Sasha nodded thoughtfully, encouraging her to keep going.

"Not that it wasn't a good idea and I don't want to belittle what she was trying to do there . . ." she added weakly, backtracking a little. Lauren had done a good thing when she asked Sasha to work with the other gymnasts, but they'd been an obvious victim of her manipulations. "Her helping my Mom . . . it's like she's really thinking about it and not just . . . I don't know.

"It's like she's trying to be different," she finished weakly, glancing down towards her hands.

"Isn't that good thing?" Sasha asked gently. He pulled his chair closer, his hands reaching to hers and squeezing reassuringly.

She nodded, only to frown and shake her head a moment later. "I guess," she said, sounding uncertain. "I mean . . . it's what I wanted."

His next words made her wonder if Sasha had been a psychotherapist in a past life.

"To fix Lauren?" he asked her.

"No," she said quickly, knowing that wasn't what she'd intended. "I just wanted her to stop making the same mistakes.

"But now I'm wondering if I've let it go on to long," she said, finally lifting her gaze to his. "She shouldn't have to go this far to make amends. I feel like . . . like maybe I've been too harsh on Lauren. Like I've done something wrong."

She paused, giving Sasha the chance to comment. When he didn't immediately offer his thoughts she prompted him with a, "Well?"

"I think you need to talk to Lauren," he said after a moment longer.

She narrowed her eyes playfully. "Well that's not very helpful at the moment. You were supposed to give one of you inspirational speeches and make me feel better," she half-teased, half-groused.

Sasha laughed, shaking his head. "I don't think you're going to feel better until you talk to Lauren, _dragă_," he told her seriously. "She's the only one who can set your mind at ease and tell you if you've acted badly towards her."

"You're right," Payson agreed, nodding to herself. She glanced towards him, suddenly uncertain and vulnerable. "Do you think I've acted badly?" she asked him, her voice small.

Sasha took the time to consider the question, shaking his head when he came to a decision.

"Thank you," she said with a sigh of relief. "That makes me feel a little bit better." She sent him a brief, almost coquettish smile, which he returned with a grin.

"I should go," she announced a few moments later. Her expression was apologetic, but they both knew she couldn't (or rather, shouldn't) stay.

Wordlessly, Sasha stood and walked her out of the gym, his hand resting in the small of her back.

"You'll be going soon?" Payson asked once they reached the lobby, turning slightly to face him.

Sasha nodded. "Just need to tidy the mess I've made," he said with a small smile.

"I'll see you tomorrow, _dragă_," he said, dipping his head to press a quick kiss to her cheek. "_Vise plăcute_."

"Good night, Sasha," she returned, a small, soft smile evident on her lips.

~ to be continued ~

* * *

><p><strong>Notes: <strong>

_Orice, dragă: _Anything, darling

_Vise plăcute: _sweet dreams


End file.
